The Royal Brigade of Hopeless Cases
by twochairsshortofaset
Summary: What if Luke and Lorelai had a chance meeting as teenagers? When 17-year-old Luke begrudgingly attends a high school party in Hartford, he never expects to hit it off with a blue-eyed brunette from Connecticut high society. Story takes place prior to Lorelai falling pregnant with Rory. Luke and Rachel are no longer together and William Danes is still alive. Pre-series.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note:** This is just a little something I thought I'd write as part of Junienmomo's Enscotched Ficathon. Set when Luke and Lorelai were teenagers, it's a little different to your average Gilmore Girls fanfiction but I had a lot of fun writing it and exploring the characters at an earlier stage in their lives. Hope you like it!

 **Disclaimer:** Love them but I don't own them (sadly!)

-o-

A thousand thoughts swirled around Luke's mind as he pulled up beside the nature reserve, the truck engine rumbling to a stop.

 _Should he turn back? Make up a weak excuse about the party being cancelled? Perhaps just make an appearance for an hour to say he'd been? What if his father took a turn for the worst?_

At almost 18 years of age, Luke Danes was a far cry from the average teenage male. When he wasn't in school, he spent most of his free time helping to run the hardware store, preparing meals for the family and ferrying his father to and from the never-ending schedule of doctor's appointments.

Tonight was a rare exception, and try as he might, Luke couldn't temper the sense of guilt weighing heavily on his chest. He didn't want to go out. Had no intention of driving all the way to Hartford to attend some rich kid's party. And yet, here he was, if for no other reason than to quell William's pleas.

He understood his father's viewpoint; Luke hated to be a burden on anyone and he knew William was cut of the same cloth. Despite Luke's constant reassurances that he didn't mind, William was worried the cancer was forcing his son to grow up too quickly. It had taken him all week to wear down Luke's resolve, but he'd finally convinced him to paint the town red with his friends on Saturday night.

Exhaling a worried sigh, Luke pulled the keys from the ignition and stepped out into the dark night. Despite being parked more than a block away from the party, he immediately felt the deafening thud of the bass drum reverberating deep in his chest.

 _Just one hour_ , he promised himself, trudging along the sidewalk toward the source of the music.

It didn't take him long to locate the address. The party was in full swing, the front lawn teeming with unfamiliar faces as he made his way toward the open front door. He didn't know the guy hosting the party: Christopher Hayden, whoever that was. He imagined that was the case for most of the party-goers. When you mentioned the words 'free beer,' word got around quickly. It seemed to Luke virtually half the teenage population of Connecticut was crammed into the upscale mansion.

Scanning the room for his friends, Luke's attention was immediately caught by a lively brunette who was confidently twisting her way across the dance floor, laughing along with her companions in jest as she raised her arms to mimic a sprinkler. A slight smile tugged at the corner of his lips, amusement evident in his features as she switched to pretending to mow the lawn to the beat of the music. Luke was struck by the incredible blue of her eyes, the bright orbs dancing with laughter.

"Butch! You made it!"

Luke turned toward the voice, noticing his friend Troy walking toward him, a grin plastered across his face. "Didn't think we'd catch you here bro. Good to see you," he added clapping Luke on the back.

Luke simply gave a half smile and a nod, following Troy toward their group of friends assembled across the room.

After exchanging greetings, Bootsy took the opportunity to goad Luke, winking as he said, "You're in luck Butch. Carrie's around here somewhere and she's been asking whether you're coming."

"Aw geez," Luke grumbled, his eyes nervously darting around the room for any sign of the flirtatious blonde. "Somebody give me a code red if you see her headed this way."

They'd made out one time at the homecoming game and she hadn't stopped stalking him since. Generally speaking, Luke didn't mind the female attention that was constantly bestowed upon him, but Carrie was a whole other level of crazy. He practically had to beat her off with a stick to keep a healthy distance between them.

"Pretty ritzy place," Luke grunted, gesturing his head around the room. So far he'd only seen the foyer and lounge area, but he was already taken aback by the sheer scale of the house. After seeing it from the front street, he suspected he could easily fit three of his family home into the floor space.

"Yeah, the Haydens are loaded," Troy agreed. "They've got a mansion up at Cape Cod too. I think that's why Christopher scores the house to himself so often; his parents are constantly flitting off to one of their holiday homes."

"Half their luck," Luke muttered, taking in the expensive-looking furniture and artwork scattered around the room. "How do you know Christopher anyway?" He added, surprised by the connection. Hartford's high society rarely associated with the average Joes outside their social circle.

"Met him at my cousin's party," Troy explained casually. "He's into sports so we got talking about baseball. He's an OK guy; can be a bit of a dick from time to time but he's good for a laugh."

"Code red!" Luke heard Bootsy exclaim, prompting him to glance around in panic, desperately seeking an exit route before Carrie could locate him.

"More like a code brown," Troy countered, howling with laughter. "You almost crapped your pants Butch! Your face is priceless!"

Realizing they were just teasing and Carrie was actually not approaching, Luke shot a stern glare around the group, shaking his head and giving Bootsy a playful punch on the arm for messing with him.

"Ah Luke, code red, code red, CODE RED," Troy urged seriously this time, jerking his head to the right as he said, "approaching at 9 O'clock". Without a second thought, Luke bolted from the group, his head tucked low as he pushed through the dense crowd.

Luke steeled himself for the high-pitch squeal of delight that he knew Carrie would emit the moment she saw him. When it didn't come after a full 30 seconds of making his getaway, he felt the tension in his shoulders dissolve. Glancing behind him to be sure the coast was clear, Luke navigated his way over to the drinks table, casually helping himself to a beverage before seeking a safe zone to hide out in for a few minutes.

Spotting a slightly ajar door a few meters away, Luke made a beeline for the room and cautiously pushed through the doorway, unsure of what he would find on the other side. To his relief, it appeared to be a study, the room dominated by a lavish mahogany desk and the walls lined with books. Aside from the refuge it provided from Carrie, Luke was also grateful for the breathing space the study offered. He'd never been a fan of large crowds and relished the calm that enveloped him.

Closing the door behind him and stepping onto the plush carpet, Luke took his time inspecting the room, carefully running his fingers along the spines of the worn book covers. Proust, Wilde, Woolf and Hemingway — Luke supposed whoever this room belonged to must be an avid reader. The lingering stench of cigar smoke and masculine touches around the room suggested it was perhaps the domain of Christopher's father, but he couldn't be sure.

Luke jumped when the creak of the door interrupted his solitude some minutes later, immediately stepping away from the book case as if he had been somehow misbehaving. Glancing toward the door frame guiltily, he locked eyes with the intruder, immediately recognizing the bright blue orbs that assaulted him. _The dancing girl._

She looked as startled as he did, but with a seemingly unwavering confidence radiating from her, she quickly recovered, striding into the room with purpose.

"You don't wanna drink that," she stated in greeting, gesturing to the cup that rested in Luke's hand, frozen half-way to his mouth.

"Uh…sorry?" Luke murmured, his cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and self-consciousness.

"The drink. Believe me, you don't want to put that bad boy in your mouth. Well, not unless you like the taste of trash can mixed with essence of feet," she quipped. "And in that case, who am I to judge?"

Inhaling the smell of the concoction hesitantly, Luke crinkled his nose in revulsion. "Thanks for the heads up," he grunted appreciatively, setting the drink aside. "What's in it?"

"Trust me, you don't want to know."

"Er…right. I'll take your word for it," Luke nodded, bringing his free hand to rest in his pocket awkwardly.

He watched as the dancing girl made her way over to one of the shelves adorning the far wall, carefully selecting a miniature glass bottle containing a clear liquid. Twisting off the lid, she brought the bottle to her lips, groaning upon discovering its less-than-satisfactory contents.

"Damn, someone beat me to it," she griped, quickly screwing the lid back in place. At Luke's quizzical look she explained, "Straub Hayden is quite the collector. He picks up souvenir bottles of spirits as tokens of his travels and likes to display them in here. He never drinks them so he's none-the-wiser that half the bottles in his study are filled with water instead of vodka."

Placing the bottle back where she found it, the girl continued to scan the shelves, rummaging around until another bottle caught her eye. "More of a gin fan myself," she added, studying the label and raising the bottle in a toast before taking a swig. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have a winner. Some of London's finest."

Luke merely watched on in fascination as the brunette made her way over to the wooden desk, bending down beneath it as if looking for something. She must have been around 15 or 16 he concluded. Tall, leggy and strikingly beautiful, he held little doubt she was the object of many a teenage boy's affections.

Resurfacing from under the desk, she planted several bottles of alcohol on the table top and drew some crystal glasses from a nearby cabinet.

Pouring a liberal amount of liquor into each glass, she continued to sip from the miniature gin bottle in her left hand.

"Without even realizing it, you my friend, stumbled upon the holy grail of rooms when you walked in here tonight," she explained easily, selecting another bottle and topping up some of the shot glasses.

"The stuff out there is for the masses but this is where we keep all the good brews for those in the know. Chris' cousin keeps us in a steady supply."

Luke merely nodded to acknowledge her ramblings. He got the impression she could chatter away for hours and never tire of it, even with the most introverted of conversation partners. He wasn't great with small talk.

"Fancy a shot?" She asked, stepping out from behind the table and thrusting a shot glass in his direction.

Luke took the drink a little warily, unsure of what the concoction was comprised of.

"Relax, I'm no Goebbels. Besides, if I was going to poison you I sure as hell wouldn't be drinking the same thing," she admonished, raising her own glass. "Cheers!" she added, bringing the glass to her lips and gesturing for him to do the same.

Luke immediately felt the warm burn of alcohol bite at the back of his throat, the creamy flavor unfamiliar to him.

"What was that?" he asked, eyeing the empty glass with skepticism as he handed it back to her.

"Cock-sucking cowboy," she answered casually, returning to the desk to pour another round.

"I'm sorry, what?" Luke choked, taken aback.

"Butterscotch schnapps mixed with Baileys," she shrugged. "You want another?"

"Nah, I'm okay thanks," Luke declined.

Ignoring his protests, the dancing girl poured him a second.

"So you're friends with Christopher?" He questioned, unable to come up with anything more interesting to ask in the spur of the moment.

"We go way back. Have known each other for as long as I can remember," she explained, returning the bottle of schnapps to the table. "How come I've never seen you around?"

"Ah…first time here. I can't say I know Christopher. I'm here with a friend of a friend," he answered, shrugging.

Handing the shot glass back to Luke, the brunette clinked her glass against his as they each proceeded to down their drink.

"God, feel the burn," she exclaimed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure that can't be legal in at least three states."

"Pretty sure that's not legal anywhere if you're the age I think you are," she countered with a smirk.

Luke merely raised his eyebrows, his mouth tugging up at the corners. "Right back at you."

Returning to the desk, the brunette looked up as another girl poked her head around the door frame, whining, "Lorelai, what's taking so long? My glass is empty and those drinks are taking forever."

 _Lorelai_ , Luke thought, committing the name to memory. _Lorelai, the dancing girl._ The unusual name seemed fitting for this charismatic being. Luke felt himself being drawn in by her palpable energy.

"Sorry! Coming now," she apologized, tucking the bottles out of sight beneath the desk and hastily gathering the remaining glasses together. "Well, it was nice meeting you. Feel free to help yourself to our little stash whenever you like. Might see you out on the dance floor later cowboy," she added with a wink.

Luke offered her a half smile, raising a hand in farewell as she flitted from the room. Maybe coming to the party wasn't such a bad idea after all.

-o-

He was staring. He couldn't help it.

He tried to act casual, regularly sweeping his eye around the room over the course of the night, but he continually felt his attention being drawn to one place. One person. No matter how hard Luke tried, he found his gaze constantly stopping to linger on her a little longer than was strictly necessary.

He felt his cheeks burn red when she eventually caught him in the act, her impossibly blue eyes lighting up when their gaze met through the crowd. He watched as she cocked her hand, waving her fingers back and forth, gesturing for him to join her and her friends on the dance floor.

He shook his head shyly, holding up two fingers and pointing to one foot as he mouthed "two left feet".

Seemingly undeterred, Lorelai shook her head, once again signaling for him to join her. When he didn't budge, she dropped her bottom lip, pulling the mother of all pouts. _Damn. That girl knew how to wear a guy down._

"Are you serious Butch?" he heard Troy ask incredulously from his side. "Lorelai Gilmore just asked you to dance. _Lorelai Gilmore_ ," he added, accentuating her name as if she was some kind of goddess or celebrity. "I know you seem to have a way with the ladies, but holy shit, she's next level, even by your standards."

 _Lorelai Gilmore. So that was her name._

"What are you talking about?" Luke grumbled rhetorically, rolling his eyes.

"I'm talking about the fact that when the hottest girl in the room — hell, quite possibly in the state — invites you to join her on the dance floor, you don't knock her back," he hissed between clenched teeth. "Get out there dude."

Catching her eye once again, Luke watched as Lorelai held one hand out in front of her and waved the other above her head in a circular motion, imitating a cowboy riding a horse and throwing a lasso. He couldn't help but chuckle at the bad-dancing move she'd concocted just for him. He clapped his hands silently in compliment, prompting her to smile a thousand-watt smile. She didn't seem phased that half the room could see her dancing unapologetically badly. If anything, the other party-goers appeared to find her boldness appealing, laughing along with her and fueling her antics. She was indisputably the life of the party.

Not taking no for an answer, Luke watched as Lorelai scooted across the room toward him, only stopping when she reached the edge of the makeshift dance floor and was intercepted by a well-liquored male. Judging by the recognition on her face, it was clearly someone she knew. A friend. Or perhaps a boyfriend. Luke hoped it was the former.

"Who's that?" Luke asked, attempting to feign nonchalance and failing poorly.

"The guy? That's Christopher," Troy confirmed. "I don't think she's with him if that's what you're wondering," he added helpfully. "They're a bit 'on-again, off-again' but last I heard they weren't together. I could be wrong though."

Luke watched as Christopher's hands came to rest on Lorelai's waist, carefully turning her around and steering her back into the throng of dancing teenagers.

"And just like that, Danes goes down in flames," Troy teased, shaking his head. "Man, I can't believe you hesitated."

Though he wouldn't admit it, Luke secretly agreed. He wouldn't have resisted her invitation had she made it over to him without Christopher running interference. More like _couldn't_ have resisted her, he thought gruffly. That pout was something else.

Silently berating himself, Luke was too caught up in his thoughts to notice the busty blonde approaching from his left.

"Butch!" she squealed, prompting Luke to grimace. Crazy Carrie had him cornered.

"So glad you finally made it. I was beginning to think you were avoiding me," she giggled, unaware of the truth to her statement.

"Hi Carrie," Luke responded politely, although his tone lacked enthusiasm.

"Troy, you told me you'd come and find me the minute Butch arrived," she chastised, waggling her index finger at the teenager.

"It's nice to see you out and about handsome," she acknowledged, turning her attention back to Luke and running the palm of her hand over his muscular chest.

Luke attempted to step backwards, but felt the backs of his knees collide with the cabinet behind him.

"Er…yeah. Things have been kind of busy at home so I haven't had a chance to get out much," he explained, desperately looking for an exit strategy.

"You definitely look like you could take a load off," she replied, her hand still roaming the contours of his chest. "Maybe I could help with that," she added breathily.

Clearing his throat awkwardly, Luke grasped her wrist and brushed her hand away. "Ah…I'm all good thanks Carrie."

Undeterred, he soon felt her fingertips graze his bicep, Carrie giving the bulging muscles a gentle squeeze.

"My, my, it looks like somebody's been working out," she purred appreciatively. "You've been holding out on me Butch."

Leaning forward, she allowed her breasts to brush up against the cotton of his t-shirt as she whispered seductively, "You know, I haven't organized how I'm getting home tonight. Maybe you could offer me a ride."

The double meaning of her words was not lost on him.

"Actually Carrie, I've had a couple of drinks so I can't get behind the wheel tonight sorry. Maybe Dave could drop you home though. He hasn't been drinking."

Truth be told, Luke had thrown a couple of blankets, pillows and an old foam mattress in the bed of his dad's truck on the off-chance he did decide to drink and stay on at the party overnight, but he wasn't going to mention that to Carrie. She'd be camped out there faster than he could say 'nymphomaniac'.

He continued to ward off her advances for a further 10 minutes before finally extracting himself from her clutches and murmuring, "Men's room. Excuse me."

He couldn't help but wince at Carrie's urgent pleas for him to hurry back. Relieved when she didn't follow him, Luke exhaled a sigh of relief.

After exiting the bathroom, Luke couldn't stop himself from scanning the dance floor for her. _Lorelai Gilmore_.

Her sparkling blue eyes were nowhere to be found.

 _Had she left? Taken a breather from the dance floor? Perhaps returned to the study?_

His eyes continued to roam the room in search of her, finally locating the blue-eyed beauty perched on one of the lounges. She was surrounded by a group of friends, a drink in one hand and Christopher seated beside her.

She threw back her head in easy laughter as one of her companions regaled a story that clearly delighted her.

Making his way back toward the study, Luke once again let himself into the deserted room, this time heading straight for the drinks concealed behind the desk. Casting his eye over the bottles with interest, he finally settled on an upmarket-looking whiskey. Beer was normally his poison of choice, but the current selection was largely limited to spirits so he worked with the available options. After pouring the amber liquid into a glass, he returned the bottle beneath the desk and slipped from the room.

Lorelai was still seated on the lounge, Luke noticing that the majority of her friends had returned to the dance floor in his absence. He watched as Christopher's hand moved to rest just above her knee. Lorelai neither welcomed the touch nor rejected it; she simply didn't acknowledge it as the two continued conversing. _Was Troy mistaken? Could they be back together?_

Glancing nervously around the room to make sure Carrie was occupied a safe distance away, Luke forced himself to look elsewhere — _anywhere_ — but at Lorelai. His resolve didn't last long.

Allowing his eyes to stray in her direction, he watched as Christopher angled his body toward hers, his questing hand moving higher up her creamy white thigh as he moved to trap her body beneath his own and the back of the couch.

Luke was pleasantly surprised to see Lorelai remove Christopher's hand from her leg, her movements clearly indicating she was not receptive to his ministrations. Hovering above her, Christopher leant down to whisper something in her ear, careful not to spill the drink she held in one hand.

Forcing himself to look away again, Luke focused his attention on Bootsy across the room. He seemed to have found himself a sizeable group of girls that were presently laughing at his latest anecdote. He was surprised to see Troy wasn't over there playing wingman. Perhaps Carrie had turned her attentions on him instead, Luke thought with a smirk.

His gaze flicking back to Lorelai, he saw Christopher nuzzle her neck, his head buried in the crook of her shoulder. Luke watched as the brunette pushed her free hand against his chest, obviously indicating that she wanted him to get up. His senses on high alert, Luke didn't bother to pretend his attention was diverted elsewhere. _Was she in need of help? Or was she pushing against Christopher to suggest they relocate somewhere a little more private?_

The serious expression on her face suggested it was most likely the former, but he couldn't be certain. Not wanting to cause a scene — particularly when he wasn't sure whether the alarm bells ringing in his head were well-founded or not — Luke hastily contemplated a plan of action that would provide assistance if required but also not cause problems if he'd read the situation incorrectly.

Setting off toward the lounge, he kept his eyes firmly on her. Christopher proceeded to lavish Lorelai's neck with open mouth kisses, heedless of the throngs of people that surrounded them. Once again, Lorelai tried to shove him off her, her free hand pushing more forcefully against his chest and her torso twisting as she struggled to shift away from him.

Reaching the duo, Luke purposefully strode past them and knocked the drink Lorelai held over the end of the lounge from her grasp. The glass clattered to the ground but thankfully did not break.

"Geez. So sorry. I'm such a klutz," he apologized, feigning surprise at the collision.

Luke registered the shock evident on Lorelai's face, but noticed it also appeared to be mixed with relief as Christopher pulled away from her.

"I really need to pay more attention to where I'm going," he rambled, running a hand through his hair nervously. "Sorry, let me get you another," he offered.

"Oh that's okay," she countered, capitalizing on the opportunity to get away from Christopher. "I'll get up and grab a refill."

Rising from the lounge, Lorelai quickly smoothed her skirt before taking off toward the study, nodding at Luke as she passed and prompting him to stay hot on her heels.

"Are you okay?" He breathed the second the study door closed behind them. Lorelai rested her back against the wood, taking a moment to compose herself before pushing off toward the desk.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" she answered firmly, her self-assuredness rapidly returning.

"I just…I mean….the guy…you didn't seem like…" he trailed off, suddenly doubting whether he'd misread the situation.

"I can handle Christopher," she stated, brandishing one hand casually as she reached for a bottle with the other.

"It didn't seem that way," he answered quietly, noticing her refusal to make eye contact.

Luke watched as Lorelai lined up six shot glasses, carefully filling each with a clear liquid he supposed was vodka. Without another word she downed the first shot, immediately moving to the second and slamming the empty glass down on the table.

"Are you sure that's a great idea?" he questioned, regarding the selection of shots warily as she reached for a third.

She might have been tall, but she wasn't a particularly big build and he doubted she'd be able to hold much liquor. She'd been drinking steadily all night and Luke hadn't seen her take so much as a bite to eat in the time he'd been there, so he knew the extra spirits could only end in disaster.

"What are you, my mother?" she challenged with a smirk, cocking her eyebrow. "I've got six perfectly good drinks here. Are you gonna just stand there and question my poor life choices or help take some off my hands? I can finish them all myself if I need to."

Her words inciting him to action, Luke stepped forward, cautiously picking up one of the shots and downing it quickly. His throat seared with heat and he felt the liquid warm his chest as it seeped lower. Reaching for another, he soon caught up to her, intent on making sure she consumed as few of the drinks as possible. If Christopher tried his luck again and she was even more inebriated, Luke had no doubt how the evening would finish up.

They downed their third drinks together, Lorelai gripping the edge of the wooden desk as she felt the buzz filter down to her fingertips. She'd lost count of the number of drinks she'd consumed, which wasn't unusual for a Saturday night in Hartford.

As she stooped to deposit the bottle beneath the desk, both Luke and Lorelai were startled to hear to the music suddenly come to a stop, followed by loud screams of, "Cops! Run!"

Their eyes widening in panic, the duo froze momentarily before Luke registered the gravity of the situation and urged, "Quick! The window."

Working up the glass pane, he stuck his head out of the frame to check the coast was clear before assisting Lorelai to climb through. Following close behind, he skillfully lunged through the opening, landing deftly on his feet. Grabbing hold of her hand, he tugged insistently, the two teenagers running off into the night.

She wasn't a runner; that much was clear. Call it the copious amounts of alcohol or simply a lack of athletic ability, but Luke found he had to slow his pace considerably to allow her to keep up even after she'd taken her heels off. If he'd been by himself, he would have legged it until he was deep within the nearby reserve. As Stars Hollow High's track star, it wouldn't have taken him long and he could have easily avoided the handful of police that scoured the area in pursuit of underage drinkers. But despite the sluggish pace; despite the fact he could clearly see an officer headed in their direction, he stuck by her side. He wouldn't leave her just to save his own skin.

"I don't mean to alarm you but Chief Wiggum over there is gaining on us and we might need to speed this up a little," he urged, pulling on her hand as he glanced over his shoulder at the slightly rotund officer in hot pursuit.

"Shit! You go ahead. There's no point both of us getting caught," she panted, doing her best to move her long legs a little faster.

"Not gonna happen," he assured her, glancing anxiously over his shoulder. "Here, jump on my back," Luke urged, slowing momentarily to crouch down.

"What? No!" Lorelai exclaimed, imploring him to get up and keep moving. "I'll just slow you down more."

"Trust me. Get on. NOW!" he begged, conscious of the police officer gaining ground.

Hesitating for only a fraction of a second, Lorelai did as requested, clinging tight to his shoulders and wrapping her legs around his waist as he pushed upwards and took off at speed. _Damn, the guy could run._

Despite the added weight, Luke felt the taut muscles in his legs quiver to life, his track prowess combining with the adrenaline of the moment to put a healthy distance between them and the policeman.

"I think we're good," he heard Lorelai murmur from over his shoulder a few minutes later, prompting him to slow and look for any signs of the officer. Sure enough, he was nowhere to be seen.

"He stopped chasing us and turned back a couple of hundred meters ago so we should be far enough away now. I think he realized there were easier pickings than Leroy Burrell here," she added, patting him on the back affectionately.

After lowering Lorelai to her feet, Luke rested his palms against his knees as he struggled to catch his breath.

"Thanks cowboy; I owe you big time," Lorelai beamed, laughing with exhilaration.

"Welcome," Luke panted, feeling the oxygen slowly return to his lungs.

Taking in her surroundings, Lorelai concluded they were somewhere in the middle of the nature reserve that backed on to Christopher's neighborhood. Despite the lights being few and far between, the glow of the full moon illuminated the setting well.

"There's a tap there if you need some water," she offered helpfully, gesturing to a picnic area a short distance away. Nodding, Luke moved in the direction she pointed, cupping his hands beneath the spray and bringing them to his mouth as he gulped down the cool liquid gratefully.

"You could probably do with some of that yourself," he commented with a raised brow, remembering the large number of drinks she'd consumed earlier.

"Why bother when I've got this?" she teased, drawing his attention to the bottle of vodka she clasped in her left hand.

"What? How did you…?" Luke asked incredulously. "Geez, I can't believe you held onto that this whole way!" he groaned, laughter rumbling up from deep within his stomach.

Feeling the buzz of the alcohol pulsing through her veins and encouraged by Luke's response, Lorelai was overcome with a fit of the giggles. "Yeah, well, a girl's got her priorities. Far out, did that really just happen?" she queried, her words slurring slightly as the laughter bubbled from inside her.

"I know, right? One minute we're taking a shot; the next all hell breaks loose," Luke agreed, a smile lighting his face.

"So what do you wanna do cowboy?" she asked mischievously. "We can't go back there anything time soon."

"Guess you're stuck with me," he responded, inwardly pleased by the stroke of luck. "Nothing to do but wait it out."

"Well come on then," Lorelai encouraged, extending her hand toward him, intent on investigating what was on the other side of the thicket of trees coated in darkness nearby. She was hoping for a comfortable place to kick back with the bottle of spirits and relax until they could leave.

"You sure?" He queried. "I mean, it's dark in there. You don't even know me. I could be an axe murderer for all you know."

"You packing an axe where I can't see it?" Lorelai queried, automatically bursting into a fit of laughter when she registered the unintentional double meaning in her words. "Sorry, but _dirty_ ," she laughed.

Luke merely rolled his eyes, but Lorelai could still see the humor dancing within them.

"No axe," he confirmed.

"You a serial killer?"

"Nope."

"Molester?" she asked, slurring the 's'.

"Nah."

"Chainsaw mass…massa…massacrist?" she choked out, struggling to get the made up word off her tongue.

"Not my style."

"Thinking about dragging me off to the forest to dismember me?"

"Wasn't planning on it."

"I rest my case; you're golden. The fashion police might have a thing or two to say about that flannel, but it's not exactly hard crime so I think I'm okay," she added with a wink, gesturing for him to follow. "You comin' cowboy?"

Pausing for a moment, Lorelai let her fuzzy mind run back over the night's conversations in an attempt to recall whether they'd ever officially introduced themselves. "Hey, I just realized I don't know your name," she commented, her brow furrowed. "I'm…"

"Lorelai Gilmore, I know," Luke interrupted.

"Well, well, well…it seems you've done your homework," she remarked, arching one eyebrow. "Either that or my reputation precedes me. In which case, don't believe what they told you. It's all lies."

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind," he answered good-naturedly.

"And you?"

"I'm ah…Benedict. Benedict Peckerbottom," he murmured with a nod, interested to find out if she would believe him. He didn't know why he said it. Something about the lively brunette inspired an uncharacteristic sense of lightheartedness within him.

"Sorry?" Lorelai asked, unsure whether she heard him correctly.

"Benny for short," he confirmed. "Benny Peckerbottom."

He saw the emotions warring behind her eyes. Saw her well-bred self somehow manage to stop her inebriated self from laughing outright. "It's nice to finally put a name to the face Benny," she added in the most composed manner she could, turning toward the trees so he couldn't see the irrepressible smile that graced her lips. A name like that was just begging to be mocked.

"I'm kidding," he added after a few seconds of silence.

"Oh thank god!" She spluttered, releasing the giggles she'd been so desperately working to stifle. "Do you have any idea how much restraint it took me not to laugh in your face?"

For the second time that night, Luke felt the swell of laughter bubble up inside of him, warm and genuine. It had been a while since he'd laughed. Not the false laugh he'd occasionally choke out in social settings to be polite, but the deep, rumbling belly laugh that emanated from his core. Unlike most people, it appeared Lorelai Gilmore had the uncanny ability to draw this from him. With his mom gone and his dad so sick, he really hadn't had much reason to laugh of late.

"So what is your name really, smartass? No pretending this time," Lorelai demanded, a smile still gracing her features.

"Luke. Luke Danes," he lamented with a cocky grin. "Scout's honor."

"Well Luke Danes, I think you and I are up for an adventure tonight. You game?"

"Always," he confirmed with a smile, following her as she entered the line of trees.

He could see that the trifecta of shots she'd downed back at the house was now beginning to take effect, as evidenced by the slight slur in her speech and her unsteadiness on her feet as they walked over uneven grass.

"You right there tiger?" He asked, reaching for her elbow to stabilize her and trying hard not to wince when he saw her stumble over a patch of grass.

"Right as rain," she cooed happily, giggling as she corrected her footing.

"Here, give me those," he muttered, reaching for the high heels she carried in one hand so she'd at least be able to break her fall if she did topple over.

"They're not really your color cowboy, but hey, whatever you're into," she joked, tossing the shoes in his direction and missing her target by a mile.

"Yeah, pink really would have gone better with my outfit," he muttered sarcastically, collecting both shoes from the ground and tucking them under his arm.

They continued to trudge along the overgrown path that snaked through the trees, quickly coming to a clearing where they found a small stream.

"Oh cool!" Lorelai exclaimed, stumbling her way down the embankment and dropping onto the soft grass. "Couldn't have picked a better spot."

Following close behind, Luke joined her on the ground, watching as she unscrewed the lid from the bottle of vodka and took a swig.

"Geez, you're what? 130lbs max? How the hell are you still standing?" He asked, baffled.

"Practice makes perfect," she quipped, attempting to wink but failing miserably as she closed both eyes instead, prompting Luke to chuckle.

"Here, help a girl out," she instructed, handing him the bottle and motioning for him to drink.

"Taste's horrible," he complained after one mouthful, drawing the bottle away from his lips.

"Gets better the more you have."

Taking another sip, Luke grimaced once again.

They chattered away easily for a half hour before Lorelai asked, "So which school do you go to Luke? Cowboy College for Kids Who Can't Dance? "

"How'd you guess?"

"Seemed like a likely possibility. I wouldn't dream of sending my kids anywhere else."

"Stars Hollow High," he answered. "No frills, but it does the job. What about you?"

"St. Jude's," she murmured, referring to one of the more exclusive schools in the area that was renowned as much for churning out the next generation of future Ivy League graduates as for its high price tag.

Luke let out a low whistle. "No kidding."

"Yeah, don't think the irony is lost on me."

"How so?" he queried, unsure of what she was getting at.

"St. Jude: Patron saint of lost causes. And yet all of Hartford's high society is just _dying_ to secure their snooty kids a place there. Nothing but the best for the next generation of disappointments," she said bitterly, the drunken giggle that followed softening her words.

"That good, huh?"

"It's not what you know Danes; it's who you know. And how much money you have in your bank account. Remember that," she added earnestly, her blue eyes wide and boring into his as she struggled to bring the blurry outline of his face into focus. "Hey, no hogging the booze."

"You know what; I think you've had enough of that particular cocktail of death for one night. How about we give it a rest for a while?"

"Nuh-uh. No fair. I pilfered that fair and square. HA! I rhymed! Did you hear Luke? I rhymed! Hahahaha!"

Luke smirked, finding her drunken behavior comical rather than annoying.

"Hand it over cowboy," she urged, reaching for the bottle resting between them.

"Not a chance."

"No fair," she whined, flopping onto her back on the grass. When she was confident he thought her attention was diverted elsewhere, she lunged for the bottle, grasping it tightly in her hands and clambering to her wobbly feet.

"Hey, give that back! It's for your own good. Do you really want to have your head in the toilet bowl tomorrow?" he warned.

"Safe to say I'm already going to be riding the porcelain bus Danes. Might as well enjoy the journey. _Beep beep_ ", she added in a high pitched voice, pretending to blast a bus horn.

At his scowl, Lorelai asked, "You really don't want me to drink it?"

Luke simply nodded.

"Well you're gonna have to come and get it." At that, she turned on her heel and staggered down toward the water's edge.

"No, not near the water Lorelai," Luke yelled, panic rising in his chest as he jumped to his feet. She could barely walk, let alone swim. "You can keep the bottle; just don't go near the water okay?"

All he received in response was a girlish giggle. "Don't tell me you're afraid of a little water cowboy."

"Lorelai, you're drunk. Swim anytime you like when you're sober…just not now."

"I'm not drunk. I'm sotally tober. I mean sotally…ah hell, I am drunk," Lorelai laughed.

Luke felt the wind knocked out of him when a wad of soft cotton socked him in the face. _Lorelai's skirt. Dear god she was taking her clothes off._

"Lorelai, no…" he trailed off helplessly.

If he wasn't so panicked by her determination to go swimming, he would have thought all his Christmases had come at once.

Running toward her, his concern increased as he saw her t-shirt go flying through the air. She began wading into the water in her underwear, the bottle grasped firmly in her right hand.

"You comin' in or planning on leaving me all alone out here with only my good friend vodka to keep me company?" she taunted.

"Shit," Luke muttered. There was nothing else for it. He'd have to go in and drag her back to the bank.

Quickly stripping down to his boxers, he waded in after her, Lorelai cheering with glee as his toes touched the water.

"Cowboys can swim after all! Who knew?" Lorelai said, laughing delightedly.

He watched as she took another pull from the bottle, swaying dangerously as she struggled to stay upright in the water despite only being submerged up to her waist.

"Alright, I'm in. You happy? Time to get out now."

"No Luke, I want to go swimmmiiinnnggg!" she called excitedly. "Come swimming with me!"

His jaw set firmly, Luke pushed through the water toward her, grasping her by the shoulders and saying, "Lorelai, it's not safe. You need to go back to the bank. We can swim another day."

"But I want to swim _now_ Luke," she whined.

Ignoring his desperate pleas, she bent her knees, allowing her shoulders to slip through his grasp as she sunk down into the water beneath.

He lowered his hands after her, frantically seeking out her form in the water's murky depths. His hands coming into contact with her shoulders, he quickly moved them beneath her arms, hauling her upwards.

He could see the shock written plainly on her face as she resurfaced.

"God Lorelai, you scared me! Don't do that!" he yelled, immediately regretting his harsh tone when he saw tears well in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he whispered, stroking her wet hair away from her face. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled. It just really scared me when you disappeared under the water. Please don't do that again. You've got to stay safe," he pleaded.

Still shocked by his outburst, Lorelai said nothing, finally grasping the seriousness of the situation.

"I'm sorry," she choked out, a lone tear seeping down her cheek, mixing with the droplets of water clinging to her skin.

Swiping the tear away with the pad of his thumb, Luke looked into her remorseful blue eyes and said gently, "Come on, let's go back to the bank."

Holding onto her arm firmly, Luke led Lorelai from the water.

"Here, use this to dry off," he said, offering her his flannel. He could make do without it.

When he saw her sway dangerously on her feet, he helped her to sit on the grass, gently running the flannel down each of her arms and over her calves. He didn't dare dry her any further than that, not wanting to overstep any boundaries when she was clearly intoxicated. Instead, he wrapped the flannel around her immobile frame, rubbing his hand over the cotton covering her back in an attempt to warm her up.

"Hey, you feeling okay?" he asked softly, lifting her chin with his finger.

"Yes," she whispered. "Everything's spinning."

He let out a quiet chuckle. "Yeah, that tends to happen when you drink like a sailor. It'll pass soon, I promise."

"I really am sorry Luke," she said with a slight slur.

"I know. I'm sorry too. No harm done; that's the important thing. Just don't go pulling anymore crazy stunts or you'll give me heart failure before I reach my twenties," he joked, trying hard to set her at ease.

"Uh oh, I think I'm gonna…" Lorelai trailed off, cupping her hand over her mouth as she jerked her head to the side and rose up on all fours.

Luke hovered above her, holding her hair back and awkwardly patting her back as she dry wretched repeatedly. "Easy tiger."

"Passed now," Lorelai muttered, flipping back into a sitting position, grateful that she hadn't brought up the contents of her stomach in front of Luke.

"I'm sorry. S'humiliating," she whispered in a rare display of vulnerability, her cheeks flaming red.

"On the contrary, I think it's kind of exhilarating. I haven't had a night this action-packed in years," he offered good-naturedly. "Why don't we wait it out a little longer here to make sure your stomach's settled and the dizziness is gone, then head back to where we saw that tap before? It would be good to get some water into you so your head's not too sore in the morning. It shouldn't be too long before the buzz wears off anyway."

Lorelai nodded, closing her eyes and drawing deep, steadying breaths as she tried to repress the overwhelming swirling motion in her head. _Good one_ , she thought bitterly. _Lorelai Gilmore:_ _Making poor life choices since 1968._

-o-

One hour later, the duo trudged up beside the beat up green truck, Lorelai leaning wearily against the side as Luke foraged through the glove compartment. While there was still plenty of alcohol in her system, the drunken fog had lifted from Lorelai's mind, leaving her a little merry but completely in control of her faculties.

"Here, pop a couple of these," he instructed, locating a pack of Advil. Luke handed her the vodka bottle — now full of water — and watched as she gulped down some of the cool liquid hastily.

"Did I tell you how much I owe you?" She questioned.

"Only about 300 times in the last 10 minutes. Don't mention it," Luke chuckled.

Squinting down the road toward Christopher's house, Luke noticed the lack of noise and movement on the deserted street; a stark contrast to when he'd first arrived.

"Looks like all's quiet on the Western Front," he murmured.

"Yeah, nothing like a visit from the boys in uniform to shut down a good party. I wonder if anyone got caught."

"Probably quite a few kids getting their butts kicked by their parents right now," Luke snorted. "Speaking of parents, are yours going to be wondering where you are?"

"Nope. As far as they're aware, I'm mid-movie marathon at Cindy Marshall's house. I was planning on crashing at Christopher's. You?"

"Ah, I'm free to come and go as I please. I actually think Dad will be pretty impressed that I stayed out," he laughed.

"So where's your bed for the night?"

"You're lookin' at it," he responded, wrapping his knuckles on the side of the vehicle affectionately.

"You're sleeping in the truck?" Lorelai asked, wondering how he was going to stretch out in the cabin.

"In a manner of speaking." Jerking his head toward the tray, he beckoned for her to follow him around to the back.

"Got the full setup here," he explained, pulling back the plastic cover to reveal the mattress, pillows and blankets beneath.

"No kidding! You come prepared Danes."

"Yeah, the guys and I have used it a few times when we want to go away for a quick trip and can't be bothered packing all our camping equipment just for one night. Dad usually doesn't mind me borrowing it for a night and it's a cool way to sleep under the stars without all the hassle of pulling out the camping gear."

"This is my kind of camping," Lorelai laughed. "No fishing, no tents, no uncomfortable inflatable mattresses. I could be a regular outdoorsman with a setup like this."

"Well, always room for one more tonight if you don't mind sleeping together. I mean…geez, that came out wrong. Just umm…sleeping. You know, like as in asleep. Side-by-side. Snoring. 40 winks. Sorry, I didn't mean…" Luke rambled, his cheeks flushing crimson.

"If you wanted to get me into bed Danes, you could have just said so," Lorelai teased.

"No, Lorelai, I…"

"I know what you meant Luke," Lorelai said softly, hoisting herself up onto the bed of the truck. "And yes, I'd love a place to crash if it's not going to put you out."

"Ah, sure, no problem," Luke nodded, still embarrassed.

He joined her on the mattress, arranging the blankets so they covered the two of them and offering her a couple of pillows.

"This is comfier than my bed at home," Lorelai marveled, fluffing up the pillows behind her head and smiling at Luke. "Seriously, it's like sleeping on a cloud. I couldn't be any cozier if I tried."

"Yeah well, you'll get my bill," Luke grunted.

"So is this the part where you tell me a ghost story? Is that what you boys do on your trips?"

"Can't say we do, I'm afraid. Sorry to disappoint."

"Well what do you do then? Drink? Talk about fishing and girls?"

"Something like that," Luke snorted. "We've already covered the drinking component of the evening, and somehow I don't think fishing and girls will be right at the top of your favorite topics of conversation, so maybe we'd better try out plan B instead."

"Ooh, talk about shopping and what color we're going to paint our nails?"

"Check out the stars," he countered dryly.

"Not half as much fun but it'll do. Alright, tell me what I'm looking at," Lorelai requested craning her neck backwards to get a better view.

"Er…see the kind of cross shape there?" Luke asked, raising one hand to point out the stars he was referring to. "That's Cygnus, the swan."

"Is that the one that sits inside the Summer Triangle?"

"Yep, spot on. I'm not one for all the Greek mythology mumbo jumbo, but legend has it that Zeus, the god of the sky, transformed himself into a swan to seduce Leda, the King of Sparta's wife."

"What a manwhore!" Lorelai accused, laughing.

"Yeah, word on the street is he was a bit of an asshole," Luke agreed with a chuckle. "Apparently he struck down poor Asclepius with a thunderbolt. That's who this constellation over here supposedly represents." He added, pointing to some slightly less bright stars in another section of sky.

"Who's Asclepius?"

"The god of medicine. He was so successful at healing people that he brought some back from the dead. Naturally, good old Zeus wasn't too impressed about that when some of his old enemies started showing up."

"I'll bet. And that one?" Lorelai asked, pointing to a cluster of stars in the southern part of the sky as she rearranged her position on the mattress and shifted closer to Luke. Despite the summer weather being seasonably warm, Lorelai was still drawn to the heat emanating from his body as she snuggled down further amongst the light blankets.

"That's Scorpius. See how it's kind of in the shape of a scorpion?" he said, tracing the outline above their heads with his index finger. Noticing her change in position, he lowered his arm once again, wrapping it around her shoulders and drawing her close to his side. "It's associated with a hunter named Orion. There are a couple of versions of his death but one story goes that Orion was hunting on the island of Crete and got a little bloodthirsty. He threatened to kill every beast on Earth, which naturally pissed off Mother Nature big time. She showed him who was boss though and sent a giant scorpion to take him down. When he died, Zeus added constellations for both Orion and the scorpion to the skies."

"How do you know all this? I mean, for someone who claims they're not into the 'mythology mumbo jumbo' you seem to know an awful lot about it," Lorelai teased.

"Picked a story or two up from when I used to go on camping trips with my dad."

"Used to? You too cool to hang out with him now Danes?"

Luke stiffened, realizing his slip of the tongue. He didn't normally reference his father's illness if he could avoid it. He hated the looks of pity he received.

"Nah. Um…he's not really up to going camping anymore." At Lorelai's quizzical look, he simply added, "cancer."

"Oh Luke, I'm so sorry," she said quietly, her hand coming to rest against his chest in a sign of solidarity. Luke merely cleared his throat and gave a silent nod, quickly averting his eyes.

"So you get on well with your parents?" she added softly.

"Yeah, Dad's a good guy. Mom passed away a few years back but I've got loads of great memories of her. She was really lively and fun. Always the life of the party," he said, smiling fondly. "And you?" he added, eager to have the spotlight taken off him. "You get along with your folks?"

"Ah…not so much," she admitted. "Dad works long hours so I don't really see that much of him. Mom and I make Batman and the Joker look like best friends."

"That amicable, huh?"

"Yeah. I don't know why it is that we can't seem to have a civil conversation without it always ending in a fight. We just value different things. She's all about cotillion balls and fancy dinners and DAR meetings, and I'm just…well…me. One big disappointment."

"That's not how it looks from where I'm sitting," Luke whispered softly, giving her arm a reassuring squeeze.

"Trust me, it's true," she said flatly. "I'll never live up to their expectations. I wish I could be what my parents both want me to be. I wish I could love the things that they love and dream about going to Yale and relish living in that soulless, extravagant house, but I can't. God knows I've tried. I don't know how to be what they want."

"Why not just be you then?"

"Because I don't really know how to be that either," she replied softly, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Staring at her lithe form curled up by his side, the moonlight illuminating her pensive face, it struck Luke that perhaps Lorelai Gilmore wasn't so confident after all. Perhaps her seemingly unwavering self-assurance and biting sarcasm were simply well-crafted defenses designed to house a deep-seated insecurity.

"You know, you were right earlier tonight," she confessed quietly. "About Christopher. I couldn't get him to stop and I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't intervened."

Luke refrained from responding, sensing that she had more to say but was struggling to find the right words.

"The other time it happened was when we were still together and I thought maybe he was right and that it would feel good if I just relaxed and went with it like he told me to, but it didn't. Afterwards, I just felt dirty," she whispered.

"Lorelai, I…" Luke started, shocked by her admission, but he trailed off when he found no words came to his lips.

"He said it was the perfect way to get back at our parents. Maybe it was. My mother would be pissed if she knew," she said with a wry smile.

"W…were you safe?" Luke choked out, unable to form any of the other thousands of questions swirling around his brain.

"Yeah, we were practically a condom commercial."

After a brief silence, Lorelai added, "I guess it was my own fault. He didn't get the message every time I told him no, so I probably should have tried harder to stop him. I just panicked in the moment and didn't know what to do."

"Lorelai, this is not your fault. Do you hear me? You did _nothing_ wrong," Luke stressed, feeling an unrepentant wave of anger bubble up inside him. "'No' means 'no' and it should never have been like that. Christopher took advantage of you. I've got half a mind to march down to his house right now, haul his drunken ass out of bed and kill the bastard," he raged, moving to sit up.

"Luke, no!" Lorelai begged. "Please don't. It will only make things worse."

Luke stilled at her request, feeling the harsh sting of fury pulsing through him. No wonder she had downed so many shots after he'd pulled her away from Christopher. She was looking for an escape.

Not wanting to upset her, he let go of his attempt to get up, silently vowing that he'd make sure Christopher got the message to never touch her again just as soon as he was out of Lorelai's sight.

"I hate what he did to you," Luke seethed, his voice rough and low.

"It's done now."

"Yeah, and I'll damn well make sure it doesn't happen again. This is not okay Lorelai."

A comfortable silence eventually fell between them, Luke gradually feeling his heartrate return to normal as they turned their attention back to the skies.

Her hand still resting against his chest, Lorelai asked quietly, "You ever want to pack up and leave? Grab your stuff and just run as far as you can?"

Luke pondered for a moment. "Sometimes," he confessed gruffly, thinking back on the miserable period right after his mother died. "Not much anymore though. I've got responsibilities at home."

"Your dad?"

"Yeah, and my sister. She's about your age. I couldn't forgive myself if I left. To be honest, I don't want to. Ever since my mom got sick…well, the town's been like family."

Lorelai nodded, lost in thought.

"You?" she heard Luke ask, breaking her reverie. "You ever think about running?"

"Constantly."

"Where would you go?"

"I don't know. New York. Paris. Florida. Wherever the road takes me. Anywhere but here."

"Florida? Seriously? You realize you're increasing your chances of death by alligator attack by like 3,000 per cent, right? That's if the stench of old people or hurricane season doesn't take you out first," he ranted, a twinkle of humor discernable in his eyes.

"OK, maybe not Florida," she conceded with a smile. "I wouldn't even care if I ended up in the next town over. Just not Hartford. Not my parents' house."

"Well, wherever you go, promise you'll stop by and say hi from time to time; tell me about all your crazy adventures. Better yet, stick it out at your parents' until you finish school and whenever you're having a tough time, catch a bus to Stars Hollow and come and see me. We can hang out and piss off the pain-in-the-ass town selectman by parking our camping-mobile in the loading bays. I can see the smoke coming out of his ears already."

Lorelai laughed. "I might just take you up on that Danes."

"I mean it Lorelai. Jokes aside, if you need a refuge at any point, come and find me."

"Thank you. You're a pretty great guy you know," she stated earnestly.

"Hardly," he grunted.

"I'm serious. I've only just met you and I can already see that."

"Don't say that," Luke scowled, shaking his head.

"What? It's true."

"It's not," he said softly. Noting her furrowed brow, he said, "If you knew me well you might not think so."

"Try me. I'm the queen of Bitter-and-twisted-ville. Tell me something deep and sinister about you. Something no one else knows."

"Not gonna happen."

"Come on. No judgement, I promise."

Luke clenched his mouth shut, the muscle flexing in his jaw. It wasn't in his nature to talk much at all, let alone talk about his deepest, darkest thoughts. And yet somehow, stretched out in the bed of his father's truck beside a girl he'd met only hours previously, he felt the words form on his tongue.

"I think my dad's going to die."

Lorelai didn't say anything; didn't quite know where he was going with the statement or what she could offer that wouldn't seem insensitive, so uncharacteristically, she kept her mouth firmly closed.

"I think my dad's going to die and that makes me a horrible person because I'm supposed to have this ridiculous level of hope and this…I don't know…staunch belief that everything will work out okay," he admitted, exhaling slowly. "Everyone keeps looking to me to tell them that this latest round of treatment is working and that he's turning a corner, but the reality is that he's getting sicker every day. He knows it, I know it, the doctors know it and there's not a damn thing I can do about it, no matter how hard I try."

"My sister is relying on me to tell her that everything's going to be okay and I can't lie to her Lorelai. I can't lie because in three months or six months or a year everything's going to turn to shit and she'll fall apart. _I'll_ fall apart. I'm the guy that has to keep our dad's failing business going. I'm the guy that has to put food on the table. I'm the guy that somehow has to find a way to pay all of the medical bills that are racking up. And when the time comes that it all becomes too much, I'll be the guy crashing down in flames and letting his family down. So believe me when I say: I'm not a great guy. I'm actually a pretty shitty one."

"You sound like a pretty human one to me," Lorelai said quietly, taking a moment to lace the fingers of her right hand with his left. "A human one that doesn't have the power to control the shitty card he's been dealt but is doing the best he can despite the circumstances. That's still pretty great in my book."

"Maybe."

"Definitely," she affirmed. "I really am sorry about your dad."

"Thanks," he murmured, tightening his hold on her to show he appreciated the sentiment.

They lay there together in silence for a few minutes, Lorelai drawing patterns on his palm with her index finger.

"Look at us! We're a pathetic double act, aren't we?" Lorelai concluded, glancing down over their prone forms.

"The worst."

"I feel like we need a name. The Connecticut Contingent of Human Catastrophes."

"Huh?"

"The US Secret Society for Lost Causes. No, too dull," she pondered. "How about Disappointments and Disasters Anonymous?"

"You're crazy; you know that, right?" Luke deadpanned.

"Looks like I've ticked off the first part of the membership criteria then. Oooh, I know! The Royal Brigade of Hopeless Cases!" she exclaimed, shifting her head to seek Luke's confirmation.

"Royal?"

"Has a better ring to it than 'defective'."

"I see. Sounds about right then," he affirmed gruffly, his eyes locking on hers. "So does this congregation have a magic password to get into meetings? _Open sesame_? Or some kind of secret handshake I should know about?"

Lorelai simply nodded, suddenly entranced by the magnetizing pull of his gaze.

"Yeah," she said softly, her breath catching in her throat as her eyes inadvertently darted to his lips and back up again.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," she whispered, inching forward to brush her lips against his in the slightest of kisses.

"Sorry…umm, you think you could repeat that one more time? You know, just to make sure I've got it down pat," Luke returned huskily.

Heartened by his response, Lorelai leaned forward once again, this time pressing her lips firmly against his. She felt him respond immediately, deepening the kiss and tangling his fingers in her hair.

What was intended as a chaste kiss soon became heated, both Luke and Lorelai expressing all of their frustrations and reveling in the feeling of finding comfort in one another.

Lorelai's palms roamed his chest as their lips collided repeatedly, Luke gently twisting his fingers through her dark tresses as he held her to him.

"You taste incredible," Luke breathed between kisses, desperately seeking the warmth of her swollen lips once again. Lorelai merely moaned in response, drawing her body closer to his.

Finally, in desperate need of air, Luke drew back, placing his hands on her shoulders as he said firmly, "Lorelai, stop. We need to stop."

He saw the confusion in her eyes; saw the hurt as she withdrew her hands from his chest.

"You don't want me," she stated quietly. It wasn't a question so much as a statement of fact.

Luke sighed. How quick she was to question her own self-worth when her defenses were down.

"I _do_ want you. I want you more than anything," he confessed, resting his forehead against hers, his breathing ragged. "Believe me, I've got the evidence to attest to that," he muttered, glancing down awkwardly. "But you've been drinking and I don't want to do anything you're going to regret in the morning."

"You know I'm not drunk Luke," she refuted. "I was earlier, but I'm not anymore. This isn't the alcohol talking."

"I know," he whispered, breathing hard as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and tried to ignore the insistent throbbing in his jeans. "But it's been a big night for you. I want you so bad that if we go any further, I don't know if I'll be able to stop myself," he confessed.

"Then don't."

"You know I can't do that Lorelai. You're not ready."

"I want to be. It didn't feel right with Christopher. It does with you." After a few moments she added, "Can you feel that?"

He knew exactly what she was referring to: The tingling sensation that seemed to radiate from his very core to his fingertips; the raw, aching heat that consumed him; the overwhelming desire that pulsed through his veins.

It had never felt like that with Rachel. They'd been intimate countless times when they'd been a couple and the sex had been great, but it was nothing compared to the all-encompassing primal need that enveloped him now. Nothing compared to the prospect of being with Lorelai Gilmore.

"Yes," he breathed, struggling to maintain his composure. Flipping her onto her back and hovering above her, he kissed her hard one last time before saying, "No more Lorelai. Not tonight. Not tonight, okay? I don't have protection and we need to make sure you're ready when we do this. We'll see each other again and then we can think about it. One day; just not tonight."

Letting out a barely audible whimper of disappointment, Lorelai nodded, her blue eyes locking with his. There was no point arguing if he didn't have protection; she wasn't on the pill. Grabbing hold of the soft cotton of his shirt, she pulled him down to rest against her, his face burrowing into the crook of her neck as they both attempted to slow their ragged breathing.

Aware he may be crushing her with his weight, Luke rolled onto his back on the mattress and desperately tried to focus on something, _anything_ , other than the alluring beauty lying beside him and the subsequent tightness in his jeans.

 _Babe Ruth's batting average was .342. The appointment with Dr Walsh is scheduled for 8am on Monday. A flock of crows is called a murder. I need to fold that basket of laundry tomorrow._

"Are you okay?" came her concerned whisper.

"Yep, just need a minute," he responded through gritted teeth, clenching his eyes shut tight. "Or 20."

She couldn't help the giggle that bubbled up inside her. "Sorry, I know this must be torture for you. It just hit me how surreal this is. I never expected the night would end up like this."

"You're tellin' me," he grunted, rearranging his jeans so they were in a slightly more comfortable position.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I think you've done more than enough," he said with a pointed glare, but she could hear the humor in his tone.

"Seriously though?"

"Say something that will turn me off."

"Okay…umm…you said this was your dad's truck, yeah? Ever think that you could have been conceived in the exact spot you're lying?"

"Aw geez. I said turn me off; not scar me for life," he groaned in disgust.

Her delighted tinkle of laughter did nothing to improve his predicament. Everything she did was just so goddamn sexy, he thought exasperatedly.

"That's it. I'm taking a walk," he grunted, pulling himself into a sitting position. "You're trouble Gilmore. I'll be back in five."

Lorelai couldn't help but snicker as he gingerly swung his legs over the end of the tray.

"Hey Luke?"

"Yeah?"

"Not a bad inaugural meeting for The Royal Brigade of Hopeless Cases. Glad to see we've established some...er… _hard_ outcomes," she said seriously, trying hard to stifle her giggles.

"Bite me," he growled while storming off, her peals of laughter following him into the night.

-o-

 **Author's note:** Love it? Hate it? Let me know! I might add another chapter or two to this story if it's well-received. Still deciding whether to take it any further.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note:** A quick shout out to all of the lovely people that reviewed the first chapter of this story and liked it enough to request subsequent chapters. You inspired me to keep the story going, at least for a little while longer. I'm so appreciative of your comments and am thrilled to see other people are enjoying reading about teenage Luke and Lorelai as much as I'm enjoying writing about them! It's interesting imagining them at a time before some of their character traits would have been as pronounced as they were in adult life on the show.

I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter so please let me know what you think!

-o-

Luke leant against the brick building, his eyes passing over row upon row of Audis, BMWs and Mercedes-Benzes. _Any minute now_ , he thought, his eyes darting to his watch.

Ordinarily, he'd use his free period on a Thursday afternoon to head into the hardware store a little earlier than usual, but this week, he'd borrowed his dad's truck and exited the school gates bound for Hartford.

His stomach gave a strange flutter when it struck him that Lorelai had been here just a half hour before; that she walked the halls of _St Jude's Academy_ almost every day. Unfortunately, he wasn't going to see her today; Emily had insisted on collecting her from school early to attend a dress fitting. Lorelai had been dreading the appointment for weeks, not caring about the function her mother was forcing her to dress up for.

As disappointed as he was at missing the chance to see her, Luke was also grateful for the opportunity the dress fitting provided for him to do what he needed to do. It had been weeks since they'd first met at the party, yet despite the fact their relationship had progressed in leaps and bounds; despite the fact he now proudly called Lorelai Gilmore his girlfriend; one thing had been weighing heavily on his mind ever since that night: Christopher.

Hearing the bell sound to signal the end of the day, Luke took in the steady stream of students slowly trickling down the school's front steps. Only a few minutes passed before he caught sight of his target, watching as Christopher and his friends made their exit.

Pushing off against the wall, Luke intercepted the group as they walked past him toward the parking lot, calmly calling "Christopher?" as he locked eyes with the teen.

"Who's asking?" Christopher queried, curiosity evident in his features as he sized up the stranger approaching him. His face showed no evidence of recognition despite him having seen Luke briefly at the party a few weekends prior.

"Name's Luke. Luke Danes," he replied with a nod. "You got a minute?"

Christopher hesitated, narrowing his eyes before saying, "What do you want?"

"I'd prefer to have a word privately if you don't mind," Luke murmured, inclining his head toward an unoccupied patch of grass nearby.

Christopher glanced around his group of friends, his trademark cockiness and confidence appearing to waver at the thought of separating from the group.

"It won't take long," Luke added. "Just a quick word."

Still cautious, Christopher locked eyes with Luke before brushing past him, headed for the front lawn.

"What do you want?" the teenager repeated once they were far enough away from the other students.

"I want to talk to you about Lorelai."

"What about her?" Christopher asked sharply, his chin jutting out in defiance.

"I know what you did to her."

Luke let the words hang heavily between them, his piercing glare conveying the gravity of his statement and leaving no doubt as to what he was referring to.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Christopher responded indifferently, but the flash of panic in his eyes was unmistakable.

"I think you do," Luke returned quietly, his tone leaving no room for protest as he took a step closer. "You pressured her into doing something she was clearly uncomfortable with."

Luke was secretly glad that he'd decided to ditch his flannel for the occasion. His t-shirt clung to the well-defined muscles of his chest and arms, highlighting his strength and dominance in contrast to Christopher's wirier frame.

"I don't know what you've heard but it's clearly a load of crap," Christopher retorted. "I don't need to stand here and listen to this bullshit."

"Are you calling Lorelai a liar?" Luke challenged, the muscle flexing in his jaw.

"I'm calling her a tease, which I'm sure you'll work out for yourself soon enough. What are you anyway? Her rebound? Let me fill you in on something, guy to guy. It might save you a lot of time. She likes to flirt but getting any action out of her is like trying to get blood out of a stone. I simply made sure she followed through for once."

"You forced a 15-year-old girl to sleep with you when she wasn't ready," Luke fumed, grabbing Christopher by the collar and bringing them nose to nose. "You're a spineless piece of shit, Hayden. You know that?"

Christopher visibly recoiled, but refused to break eye contact.

Dropping his voice to a low growl, Luke added, "I didn't come here to cause a scene Hayden. I came here for your word. You will never touch her again. Do you understand me? If I had my way, you'd never set eyes on her from now on but that's damn near impossible when you go to school together and your parents are friends. So this is me telling you that you _will_ treat her with respect at all times. You will _not_ call her a tease or any other offensive term. You will _not_ belittle her in any way for trying to exercise her right not to sleep with a pathetic asshole like you. You will _not_ make her life a living hell after this conversation. In fact, you can go on and pretend like this conversation never happened. Are we clear?"

"Crystal, asshole," Christopher spat, shaking himself off as Luke released him in disgust.

Luke drew himself up to his full height before saying, "If I hear that you've laid so much as one finger on her, I swear your life won't be worth living. I'm sure your parents and the police would be very interested to hear about your escapades," he threatened.

"It would be her word against mine." Christopher replied hotly. "She wouldn't be able to prove a thing."

"Maybe," Luke shrugged. "But regardless, that sort of thing doesn't look great on a Princeton application now does it?"

Taking a step back, Luke glanced over toward the parking lot where Christopher's friends and some older students who Luke assumed he was getting a ride with were assembled, watching the exchange curiously.

"Looks like your friends are waiting for you. Don't let me keep you," he growled, his eyes narrowed.

Christopher shot him one last scathing look before hoisting his backpack up higher on his shoulder and turning on his heel.

"Good chat!" Luke called cheerily after him, waving toward his retreating form.

-o-

Luke moved swiftly through the corridors of Stars Hollow High, picking up his pace even more as he sighted Room 2B up ahead. His father's morning appointment with the oncologist had run overtime leaving Luke 25 minutes late for his geometry test.

Hurriedly pushing through the door, he ignored Mr Miller's disapproving glare, grateful that the teacher couldn't scold him when the class was in silent exam mode. Accepting his paper, Luke sat down at his usual desk and desperately tried to make sense of the words and numbers on the page. He had 20 minutes left before the allocated time was up. If he could just get through enough of the paper to pass, he'd be happy. It wasn't like he was hell-bent on scoring straight 'A's anyway. As it was, he figured his school file had 'trade school' stamped across it.

Focusing his attention on the first question, he found himself distracted by a faint tapping sound coming from somewhere beside him. _Didn't they know exam conditions meant complete silence?_

Scowling, Luke tried once again to address the first equation on his page.

 _Tap. Tap. Tap._

That damn Perkins kid was going to have his pencil unceremoniously thrust somewhere the sun didn't shine if he kept that up, Luke decided.

 _Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap._

Seriously, what was his _problem?_ Didn't Perkins realize Luke needed to scrape through with a pass to be able to graduate high school? It was already hard enough when he was missing classes to make his dad's medical appointments.

Becoming increasingly frustrated, Luke lifted his head to shoot him a reproachful glare. It was then he felt his eyes flutter open, the school scene dissolving before him as he slowly grasped it was little more than a very lifelike dream.

But if that was the case, why was the damn tapping continuing?

Groggy and disoriented, Luke rolled over on his mattress, his brain struggling to identify where the noise was coming from. His father knew to ring the bell Luke had set up beside his bed if he required urgent assistance during the night, so it couldn't be him. Blinking repeatedly, he squinted across the room through bleary eyes, jumping slightly when he noticed a human shadow outside his bedroom window.

The curls that cascaded down her shoulders immediately tipped him off. _Lorelai_.

Sliding the window pane up and stepping backwards to allow her entry, he mumbled sleepily, "Lorelai, wha…?"

"Sorry to wake you, sleepyhead," she whispered, dropping a quick kiss against his cheek as soon as her feet met the hardwood floor.

"Wha…" he tried again, struggling to process how and why the gorgeous brunette had ended up in his bedroom at this time of night. _Was he still dreaming?_

Flipping his lamp on, he allowed his eyes to adjust to the light before locking his gaze on her. It was only then that he noticed the telltale puffiness and redness around her eyes. She'd been crying.

"Are you okay?" he asked desperately, reaching out to take her hands in his and scanning her body for any signs of physical affliction. "What's wrong Lorelai? Tell me what's wrong."

"I'm okay," she breathed, disentangling one hand to cup his cheek in her palm. "I'm great now that I'm here. Any chance of a welcome hug cowboy?"

He didn't hesitate to pull her into his arms, cradling her to his chest and softly stroking her dark curls.

"Not that I mind, but why are you here?" he asked seriously, lowering his arms to her waist and pulling back so he could see her face.

"Adolf and I just started up World War III," she explained." I needed to get away. All I could think about was coming to see you."

"How did you get here?"

"Bus."

"You took the bus at this time of night?" he asked incredulously. "Do you have a death wish? Anything could have happened to you Lorelai."

"Relax Gramps, I'm fine."

"You should have called me," he reprimanded. "Come here," he sighed, pulling her close once again and pressing a soft kiss to her lips. "It's nice to see you."

"You're not mad?"

"Mad? A pretty girl just crawled through my bedroom window. How could I possibly be mad? Worried about you running into a kidnapper or murderer on public transport? Yes. But definitely not mad."

"Sorry to wake you," she repeated, a grin gracing her lips at his words. "I didn't think you'd be in bed already."

"Early riser," he muttered.

"Ugh...we'll have to beat that out of you."

"So tell me, what was the fight about?" he asked, returning to the bed and gesturing for her to come and sit beside him.

"My mom's still trying her best to turn me into a prim and proper lady," Lorelai groaned, joining him on the bed and curling her legs up beneath her. "She signed me up for the DAR Debutante Ball. Naturally, I used a few choice words to tell her where she could stick her ball. That really should have been an indicator that my chances of reform are slim but she's still insisting on me going."

"Wait...are these the balls where girls walk out on stage and wear those stupid white outfits and wave fans around to snag themselves a husband?"

"Don't forget publicly humiliate themselves in front of 100-plus people," Lorelai groaned, throwing herself backwards on the bed and covering her face with her hands.

"It's like livestock," Luke ranted, throwing his hands up in the air in outrage. "Parading livestock around at the sale yards. Except this auction gets you a white picket fence, three bratty kids and a cashed up husband who's probably so thick he can't even spell his own name. Might as well just go ahead and rename it a marriage mart. Honestly, those ceremonies are nothing but outdated symbols of elitism that give privileged upper-class housewives something to do with their boring, pathetic lives."

"Umm…wow. Why don't you tell me what you really think?" Lorelai asked in shock, her mouth agape at his unexpected rant.

"Sorry," he muttered, his cheeks flaming red with embarrassment.

Lorelai couldn't help but laugh. "No, keep going! You were on a roll!"

"Not gonna happen. Rant over," he said shyly.

"C'mon, there's gotta be more where that came from. I could really use your material when I go back into battle with my mom. The flowers! Vent about the flowers! Or the curtsying, that's just begging for an outburst. C'mon Luke, I know you can't stand the preppy rich kids marrying for money. Let me hear it!"

Luke did his best to bite his tongue, but the second she mentioned the elite marrying within their upper-class circles, he felt his resolve waver.

"Don't even get me started on bloodlines!" he raged. "It's like the Romanovs all over again. The Connecticut elite keep inter-marrying and sooner rather than later the rampant incest spirals out of control and suddenly you're left with nothing but a group of rich freak shows who've all sprouted a second head and have webbed fingers…"

"Rant Luke, rant!" Lorelai cheered as quietly as she could mid-tirade, her expression positively gleeful as she shook with silent laughter, conscious of not alerting Luke's father to her presence.

"Nope, no more," he declared gruffly, silencing his outburst and refusing to let her bait him again. "I'm done."

"So what you're telling me is that if my mom forces me into going to this stupid thing, I'm going to find myself knocked up with a kid that's got some kind of incest-induced gene mutation and 17 fingers?"

"Don't forget you'll be in a relationship with your cousin," he grumbled, the corners of his lips snaking upwards in a teasing smile.

"Well that's just too bad isn't it? Because I kinda had my eye on someone else of the non-related variety," she joked, crawling up the bed toward him.

"Oh yeah, anyone I know?" he asked, pulling her against his chest as he flopped back against the sheets.

"Yep, as a matter of fact you do."

"Good looking guy?"

"Nah."

Luke dropped his jaw in mock outrage, immediately reaching down to tickle the side of her stomach in payback.

"Okay, I lie. He's pretty sexy," she conceded. "Not to mention adorable when he rants."

"Guys aren't adorable," he huffed, wrapping his hands tightly around her back and drawing her face within inches of his own.

"You are," she teased, leaning forward to peck him on the lips. "Delicious too."

"Am not," he grumbled, seeking out her soft lips once again.

When they parted, Lorelai leaned her head against his chest, snuggling into the crook of his arm.

"Do you mind if I stay here tonight?"

"Won't your parents be worried?" he asked, hating the idea of relinquishing his hold on her.

"Nah, I walked off in a huff and told them I was going to bed. I made sure they saw me in my pajamas before I went up to my room so they won't expect to see me again until morning."

"Sneaky little rat aren't you?"

"I try," she snorted.

"Stay here forever," he whispered, placing a kiss in her wild curls.

"Alright, but you might need to work on getting a bigger bed."

"Nuh-uh. This way I have a brilliant excuse to keep you nice and close," he murmured, closing his eyes as he began to drift off to sleep. "I can't keep my eyes open."

"Go back to sleep Luke," she whispered, cupping his chin in her palm.

"Night Lorelai."

"Night cowboy. Sweet dreams."

-o-

For the umpteenth time, Luke found himself peppering soft kisses over Lorelai's nose and cheeks, his fingers running lightly across her brow as he attempted to draw her from her slumber.

"It's time to wake up angel," he murmured, moving his fingers to slide along her jaw.

"Sleeping," Lorelai replied drowsily, burrowing her head into the warmth of his chest and refusing to open her eyes.

"I know, but we need to get on the road."

"S'too early."

"Lorelai," he called again softly, determined to see those blue eyes staring back at him.

When she didn't respond, he shifted his weight from beneath her, flipping her body in the process so she rested on her back. Hovering above her, he called her name again, pressing butterfly kisses to her eyelids and reveling in the way the slivers of early morning light filtering through the window illuminated her ivory skin.

"Lorelai's not home," she grumbled.

"Exactly, Lorelai's _not_ home. That's kind of the problem. We need to get you back to Hartford before your parents notice you're gone," he whispered, punctuating his words with a kiss to the hollow of her neck.

Upon receiving only a groan in response, he decided it was time to pull out the big guns.

"Lorelai Victoria Gilmore: do you want to spend every night of the rest of your life locked up in that mansion? Because that's what's going to happen if you don't open those baby blues right now and get your ass in the truck."

He couldn't help but chuckle when her eyes immediately sprung open.

"I didn't think so," he murmured, dropping a kiss to her lips which she readily returned. "Hi," he added, staring down at her and tucking a stray curl behind her ear.

"Hi," she returned hoarsely, a sleepy smile adorning her face. "I don't want to get up. It's cozy here with you."

"I know," he breathed, resting his forehead against hers. "But if you want to do this again, we have to get going. You can sleep on the way."

Refusing to get suckered in by the pout he knew would soon grace her lips, he made a move to rise from the bed, flipping back the covers so she wouldn't be tempted to fall back asleep beneath them.

Ever since that first night Lorelai had climbed through his bedroom window, this was the scenario that greeted him most days.

They had it down to a fine art; she crawled through his bedroom window under the cover of darkness, her eyes bright and cheeks flushed. He pulled her into his arms, chastising her for taking the bus late at night yet again.

She giggled that infectious, high-pitched giggle as they conversed into the night. He shushed her half-heartedly, covering her mouth with his own to lessen the chances of his father or sister hearing them.

She rested serenely in his single bed, snuggling into his warmth. He reluctantly woke her around dawn, coaxing her awake with gentle kisses and convincing her to make the necessary 30-minute trip back to Hartford.

The late-night trysts and early morning car rides were exhausting, but both Luke and Lorelai willingly accepted the bleary eyes and tired yawns that plagued their days as payment for the contentment they drew from being together.

While Luke recognized the need for discretion when it came to Lorelai's parents, the one thing that troubled him was sneaking around behind his father's back. He prided himself on being honest and responsible and it distressed him to hide his relationship from the one person who placed unwavering faith in him.

He knew his father wouldn't have minded Lorelai staying over; knew he would trust him to treat her with respect and act responsibly when the time came for them to take their relationship to the next level. No, it was how William would react when he found out Lorelai's parents were being kept in the dark that stopped Luke from being upfront with him. William was an easygoing and trusting father, but he adhered strictly to the parent code and Luke worried he'd break the news of Lorelai's late-night bus rides and faux afternoon study sessions to the Gilmores. Luke simply couldn't risk Emily and Richard forbidding her from seeing him.

After pulling on a fresh shirt and jeans and lacing up his sneakers, Luke turned his attention back to Lorelai who was now sprawled fully across the single mattress, staring up at the ceiling and making no move to vacate the bed.

"You're not gonna make me drag you out of there are you?"

"Just waking up," she murmured sleepily, stretching her arms out on either side of her. Luke winced when he saw her hand accidentally collide with the lamp on his bedside table, watching in slow motion from across the room as it crashed to the floor with a deafening thud and rolled across the wooden floorboards. They both froze, listening for any sign that the commotion had woken the rest of the household.

"Oh my god," Lorelai whispered in panic. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. I can't believe I just did that."

Luke immediately trained his ear toward the door, on high alert for the sound of footsteps. He had no doubt his sister would have slept through the noise from her room upstairs, but his father was another story.

"Doesn't matter. It could have just as easily been me that knocked it off if I was in here alone. We'll just have to be extra careful going out to the truck in case Dad's awake," Luke whispered back.

When Luke was confident no one was moving about the house, he nodded swiftly to Lorelai, encouraging her to rise from the bed and slip out the window ahead of him. They made it to the truck without incident and nervously set off on the 30-minute drive to the end of Lorelai's street. They didn't ever dare drive directly to her house lest her parents spot her being dropped off.

When Luke arrived back home, he cursed when he saw his father was already awake and pottering around the kitchen. On previous occasions, he'd always managed to make it to Hartford and back before William or Liz rose.

"Hey old man, I could have done that for you," Luke admonished as he walked into the kitchen, nodding his head toward the plate of eggs his father had cooked.

William merely grunted and waved his hand dismissively, indicating that he was more than capable of preparing his own breakfast.

"You were out early this morning," he commented, taking a seat at the table.

"Er…yeah. Errand," Luke explained vaguely, busying himself pouring an orange juice to accompany his father's breakfast.

"Hmm?" William asked in his trademark monosyllable.

"I…ah… had a feeling I might have accidentally left the deadbolt unlocked at the hardware store. I thought I'd drop by to double check." _Liar, liar, pants on fire._

"Right. And was it?"

"Huh?" Luke asked.

"Was the deadbolt unlocked?"

"Oh, no," Luke stammered. "False alarm."

"Well you can never be too careful in Stars Hollow; hard crime is everywhere you turn on these streets," William snorted. "Next time, don't feel you have to head out at the crack of dawn to check Luke. I'm sure it can wait until opening time. Worst case scenario, Kirk might've broken in and stuck his damn hands together with a hot glue gun."

Luke merely grunted distractedly, placing the fresh glass of juice in front of his father and beginning to prepare himself a bowl of oats.

"So, anything new with you?" William queried, taking his eyes off the newspaper for a moment to settle his gaze on his son.

"Nope, same old, same old," Luke replied casually, suddenly finding the bowl of oats very interesting to look at. _Could he know? Had the lamp woken him this morning? Had he seen them driving off?_

"Huh. Nothing at all?"

"Got a track meet today. And a science test," Luke shrugged, leaning against the kitchen bench as he began to shovel down his breakfast hurriedly. He consciously tried to slow his pace under his father's watchful stare. Lying wasn't his strong point.

"Another busy day ahead then. I've noticed you seem awfully tired of late. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay; can't have you overdoing it."

Luke visibly relaxed at his comment. _He's just worried about me taking on too much._

"Got it under control Dad. It's just been a busy couple of weeks. Coach Newbury is riding us at baseball practice at the moment."

"Of course. When's the big game against Busselton?" William inquired.

"Not for a couple of weeks. I think he just wants to make sure we're ready in plenty of time. John's pitching has really slipped so Coach is upping our training sessions."

"Well if you need an afternoon or two off from the store, just say the word. I'm happy to cover."

"Not a chance. I already hate that you're working during the day when I'm at school. You should be taking it easy like the doctor said."

"Doctor schmocter," William grumbled, shaking his head and returning his attention to the paper.

Luke breathed an inaudible sigh, relieved his father had finished his interrogation and didn't appear to have cottoned on to Lorelai's late night visits. He quickly finished his breakfast and washed up his bowl and spoon before moving to exit the kitchen en route to the bathroom.

He pulled up short when his father spoke again, his voice calm and even as his piercing gaze met Luke's eyes over the top of his newspaper.

"Luke?"

"Yeah?"

"Next time your friend comes around, invite her in through the front door, won't you? A lady shouldn't have to climb through the window."

-o-

Luke felt terrible.

He almost wished his father had yelled at him, threatened to ground him for a week or even banned him from borrowing the car. As it was, William simply accepted his explanation with a resolute nod; didn't even bother to chastise him for his behavior. The only thing worse than William's anger was his disappointment and Luke hated to disappoint anyone, much less the man he looked up to as a role model.

No, William Danes didn't shout, reprimand or discipline. Instead, he asked to meet her. _Lorelai_. Then he'd determine how he exercised the parent code.

Two days later, Luke found himself bent over a hot stove in the worn kitchen of his family home, preparing dinner as he anxiously awaited his girlfriend's arrival. Hearing a knock at the door, Luke exhaled and chanced a quick glance over at his father who sat skimming through a fishing magazine at the table. Wiping his flour-laden hands on the back of his jeans, he hurriedly made his way to the foyer, opening the door to find Lorelai smiling back at him.

"Hi cowboy."

"Hey, you made it. Come on in," he replied, gesturing for her to step inside.

"Seems a little formal coming in through the door. You sure we can't jimmy a window? Maybe slip in via the chimney?"

"No chimney."

"Ah, that's too bad. It's my grand entrance of choice," she resigned with a wry smile, stepping over the threshold.

"It's nice to see you," he whispered, pulling her to him and dropping a soft kiss against her lips.

"Right back at you babe."

"So, you ready to meet my old man?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," she sighed, offering him a nervous smile. "You know my track record for disappointing parents is impeccable. 100 per cent strike rate. I could make the Guiness Book of Records."

"Don't worry. He's gonna love you. Come on through." Clasping her hand in his, Luke pulled Lorelai toward the kitchen, clearing his throat as they reached the doorway.

"Er…Dad? I want you to meet my girlfriend, Lorelai. Lorelai, this is my dad, William."

"Nice to meet you Mr Danes," Lorelai greeted with a smile. She spoke with confidence but Luke picked up on the edge of nervousness in her voice.

"Pleasure to meet you too," he said with a nod, rising from his chair to clasp her hand in his. "And please, call me William. Mr Danes sounds like someone who's got one foot in the grave. I'm doing my best to keep mine firmly out of there at present." His tone was gruff, but the playful glint in his eye told Lorelai he was teasing and immediately set her at ease.

Gesturing for Lorelai to take a seat opposite him, William resumed his position at the table, his eyes studying his son as Luke automatically stepped behind Lorelai and rested a hand on the back of her chair.

"Something smells good," she complimented, breathing in the aroma wafting from the oven.

"Lasagna," Luke murmured, knowing it would bring a smile to her face.

"You cooked my favorite!"

"All part of my evil plan to lure you into my web."

"Well it's working," she smirked, cocking her head upwards to make eye contact with him.

"You're in for a treat. Luke even made the pasta from scratch," William explained.

"Wow, you're like a regular Martha Stewart," Lorelai teased. "A girl could get used to this treatment. Does he cook like this for you every night?" she asked, her gaze settling on William.

"Just about. Good thing he inherited his mother's culinary talents. And her good looks," he added with a wink.

As always, a faint blush tinged Luke's cheeks, and he quickly busied himself pouring drinks for all of them, ignoring Lorelai's tinkle of laughter.

"Can I help with anything?" Lorelai asked, her eyes following him across the room.

"And risk us not eating? I don't think so," Luke joked, prompting Lorelai to poke her tongue out at him.

"You not much of a cook?" William inquired.

"I'm a regular master chef when it comes to heating Pop-Tarts and Tater Tots. That's about as far as my repertoire extends," Lorelai confessed, thinking of the late night kitchen forays she occasionally took part in when the cooks and wait staff had gone home for the evening.

"Ah well, everyone only needs a couple of good dishes," he chuckled." I'm sure you've got those two down to a fine art."

"Yeah, some of my finest work. And you? Any signature dishes?"

"I'm not one for anything too fancy. Pot roast and mashed potatoes works for me."

"Don't forget your killer Oreo cheesecake," called a voice from upstairs, prompting Luke, Lorelai and William to turn their heads toward the noise.

"Liz," Luke offered by way of explanation, rolling his eyes. "You planning on coming down to say hi before you take off to Sarah's?" he yelled back.

A series of thuds could be heard as Liz made her way down the stairs, the teen's eyes lighting up as she popped her head around the door frame.

"Ohhh you must be Lorelai!" she gushed, immediately bounding over to Lorelai's side and throwing her arms around her neck despite their lack of familiarity. "It's great to meet you! Wow big bro; how did you manage to land a catch like this one?"

"Brute strength and my sparkling personality," Luke deadpanned. "Lorelai, this is Liz," he added.

"Nice to meet you Liz," Lorelai grinned, carefully extracting herself from the slightly over-zealous embrace. "So what's this I hear about a killer cheesecake?"

"Dad makes the best Oreo cheesecake ever. It's really simple but it tastes incredible," Liz enthused.

"Sounds right up my alley," Lorelai affirmed, triggering a groan from Luke.

"You want me to show it to you?" William asked, eager to have a project after sitting at home for much of the afternoon following a tiring round of treatment the previous day. "I'll pull one together and we can have it for dessert."

"How can a girl refuse an offer like that?"

"Dad, are you sure that's a great idea?" Luke fussed. "You had a big day yesterday. I don't want you to overdo it."

"This kid, honestly," William said to Lorelai, raising his eyebrows and shaking his head affectionately. "Can't so much as brush my teeth without him warning me to take it easy. I'm _fine_ Luke," he added, directing his gaze to his son.

Raising his hands in surrender, Luke mumbled, "Fine, make the damn cheesecake. The sugar overload and artery clogging will probably do more damage than the overexertion anyway."

Winking at Lorelai, William rose from his chair and gestured for her to join him by the kitchen bench, waving to Liz as she hurriedly said her goodbyes and flitted out the door to her friend's house. William proceeded to talk Lorelai through the instructions, demonstrating each step and letting her lick the remains from the bowl once he had poured the mixture into the cheesecake pan.

"So then all we do is refrigerate it for at least an hour and it's ready to eat," William explained.

"What, no baking?" Lorelai asked, surprised.

"No, this one sets in the fridge."

"Thank god. Ever since the whole Plath debacle I've been a little wary of cooking in the oven."

"Yeah, _that's_ what stopped you," Luke scoffed.

"Hush you," Lorelai admonished, grabbing the nearby dish towel and swatting his legs playfully.

William watched as his son's face lit up with a rare smile as he darted around the kitchen fending off her attack. Luke laughed as he managed to avoid her latest swipe, finally succeeding in snagging her around the waist and prying the dish towel from her grasp.

"Now you're going down Gilmore," Luke threatened.

He half-heartedly swatted her arms and legs, prompting her to squeal and giggle delightedly as she wriggled to avoid his assault. Finally tossing the towel aside, Luke kept his arm wrapped firmly around her waist and pulled her back toward his chest before placing a soft kiss on her temple and resting his head on her shoulder.

"No fair, you can't use your muscle against me," she pretended to whine, her voice breathless with laughter. "It gives you an unfair advantage."

"Cue the violins," he teased dryly.

William couldn't help but notice the light that danced in Luke's eyes as he held Lorelai to him and the two bantered back and forth. His son was always so serious; so concerned with his family's welfare and making sure the hardware store ran smoothly that he often lacked the opportunity to simply share a laugh and relax. William had been doing everything in his power to return that light-heartedness to Luke's demeanor for the better part of a year, and yet, without even trying, Lorelai was seemingly able to do so at the drop of a hat.

Even more surprisingly, William marveled at Luke's willingness to show some semblance of affection toward Lorelai while in his presence. His son generally wasn't one for public displays and he certainly had never kissed or hugged Rachel in front of the family when they'd been a couple, but it appeared he was a little more relaxed and demonstrative with Lorelai. Well, as demonstrative as Luke got, anyway.

She was good for him; there was no doubt about it.

A few minutes later, the oven timer sounded, indicating the lasagna was ready. Luke reluctantly let go of Lorelai to fetch the pasta dish and salad, accepting her offer to set the table and directing her to the cutlery drawer. It felt natural having Lorelai in the family home. Despite Luke's concern that William would inform the elder Gilmores of the relationship, he reveled in no longer having to lie to his father and being able to openly spend time with Lorelai.

The trio spent the next hour talking, laughing and bantering over dinner, Lorelai managing to coax more words from the Danes men than they normally spoke over the course of a week. While Lorelai insisted on helping with the clean-up, Luke soon banished her and William to the living room, adamant that clearing the plates was a more-than-adequate contribution.

Lorelai busied herself taking in every element of the room, from the family photographs that littered the walls, right through to the mismatched furniture and the assortment of videos stacked on the shelves of the TV cabinet. It felt homely and inviting.

William watched her with interest, content to sit on the couch in silence for a few minutes as she studied the photos carefully. Like his son, he was most comfortable listening and observing, and didn't feel the need to talk simply for the sake of it.

Lorelai eventually breached the silence, laughing as she pointed to a photograph of a seven-year-old Luke standing beside a boat, a large fish clasped in his arms. "Luke looks so little here. The fish is almost as big as him!" she giggled.

"Yeah, he was a pretty scrawny kid," William chuckled. "Smallest in his class for a while there."

"No way! I can't imagine that."

"No word of a lie. I once caught him trying to hang upside-down in his bedroom doorway. Couldn't work out for the life of me what he was doing, but he finally explained he was trying to stretch his legs and grow a few extra inches."

"No!" Lorelai giggled, struggling to reconcile the image of the skinny seven-year-old with the tall and muscular teen she knew.

"Yeah, he was little but boy was he determined. That day he caught the fish he battled with it for a solid 20 minutes before he managed to reel it in. Wouldn't take a rest and hand the reel over to anyone else. He was so exhausted by the end he could barely hold it up for the photo."

"Stubborn as a mule. That's the Luke I know," Lorelai affirmed with a smile.

William simply chuckled again, nodding his head at her words.

"So you got any other dirt on him? Embarrassing stories I can tease him about later?"

"I'm not really in the mood to have my backside kicked when he finds out I've spilled the beans," William returned with a half-smile.

"Oh come on, one story, that's all I ask."

"Just mention the words 'Chester Kazoo' to him and I guarantee he'll turn red."

"Chester Kazoo?" she asked with a puzzled frown.

"Imaginary friend," he explained. "The two let loose in the bathroom one day when Luke was about three and I came in to find him with a pair of scissors in his hand, his toenails – and half his foot – painted red and his hair looking decidedly shorter than it was earlier that day. We had to give him a buzz cut to fix the damage."

Lorelai laughed uproariously, cataloguing the prime mocking material in her mind for later.

After finishing her examination of the family photographs, Lorelai turned her attention to the VHS collection on display, taking a moment to study the titles.

"Ohh, you've got _Casablanca_!" she exclaimed, running her hands over the case fondly. "Oh, and _An Affair to Remember_. And _Breakfast at Tiffany's_. I'm in heaven! You've got great taste."

"Can't take the credit," he mumbled, brandishing one hand in the air. "Those were my wife's. She loved all the classics."

"Oh, sorry, I…" Lorelai trailed off, hastily stepping back from the shelf.

"No, please, go ahead. It'd be nice to see them get some use. Maggie would be outraged that we haven't pulled them off the shelf in years. Feel free to watch them or even take some home with you."

"Oh wow, thank you. I feel a movie marathon coming on."

"You like music too? You might like to rummage through Maggie's record collection. It has a lot of the songs from the old movies. Plenty of other classics too."

"You don't mind me taking a look?"

"Not at all. Go ahead."

Lorelai thumbed through the cardboard sleeves, occasionally squealing with delight when she came across a band or song she adored.

Emboldened by her interest, William rose from the lounge and made his way over to the record player, dusting off the top of the previously long-forgotten equipment with his fingers and encouraging her to pass him her record of choice.

"Oh, so many great options! I love this album," Lorelai gushed holding up a record by The Beatles. " _Here Comes the Sun_ is such a killer track."

"One of Maggie's favorites too," he murmured, the corners of his lips turning up in a happy smile.

"Oooh, can we please listen to this one?" Lorelai begged, handing William a copy of Chuck Berry's _Johnny B. Goode_.

He didn't hesitate to load it into the player, lowering the needle and listening as the upbeat tune sounded around the room.

Lorelai immediately began to tap her foot and sway her hips to the beat, singing along to the chorus whenever it drifted through the speakers as she continued to paw through the record collection.

"This one next!" she enthused, passing William another cardboard sleeve.

"Have you seen the movie this one comes from?" William asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"No, I don't think I have. Which one is it in?"

" _Swing Time_ ; an old black-and-white film from the '30s. Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers were the main stars. This record is the Frank Sinatra version of the song though which didn't come out until the 1950s."

"Wow I didn't know that. I'll have to watch the movie some time."

William nodded, replacing the Chuck Berry record with the Frank Sinatra one. He smiled fondly when the opening strains of _The Way You Look Tonight_ burst from the speaker, a wistful look in his eyes.

"Bring back good memories?" Lorelai asked, noticing how William's mind seemed to have drifted elsewhere.

"The best," he murmured. "Maggie used to waltz the kids and I around the room to this one. Lots of late nights laughing and trying to stop Luke and Lizzy from tripping over their feet."

Lorelai smiled softly, experiencing a pang in her chest at his words.

"How about a dance for old times' sake?" she found herself asking, moved by his sense of nostalgia. She held her palm out to him with an impish smile, thrilled by the million-watt grin that graced his lips at the gesture. Lorelai imagined it wasn't an expression he imparted often.

He gratefully accepted her hand, the duo twirling around the room and stepping back and forth in time to the sounds of the big band. Lorelai couldn't help but notice how brittle William's frame was; how the cotton of his shirt draped loosely over skin and bone. There was no mistaking that the cancer and chemotherapy were taking their toll on his body, and she briefly wondered if she'd been foolish to drain his precious energy with a dance. His luminous smile assured her otherwise.

They both laughed as they narrowly avoided collecting the coffee table, neither noticing Luke's presence as he took up position in the doorway.

At first, Luke's immediate thought was of his mother, his mind casting back to a simpler time when there were no doctor's appointments and treatment sessions penciled in; just seemingly endless hours of impromptu dance lessons, trips to the park and board games around the kitchen table. But taking in the image of Lorelai dancing with his father, her dark curls swaying wildly with every movement and a long-faded rumble of laughter rising from deep within William's abdomen, Luke felt his chest constrict and warmth flood every inch of his body. She was the light in the blackness that had somehow blanketed them for so long. She was the silver lining amidst a sea of sadness.

As the strains of violin and brass drew to a close, William and Lorelai both turned their heads in surprise at the soft clap that came from their unexpected audience member.

"Bravo," Luke murmured with a smile. "Been a while since I've heard that one."

Both William and Lorelai blushed, William placing a companionable kiss on the back of Lorelai's hand before releasing her.

"Your lady's quite the dancer Lucas," he remarked. "You better brush up on your moves or she'll put you to shame."

"Impossible," Luke teased with a shake of his head. "And just quietly, I think the only thing I should be worried about is you swooping in on my girl Danes. Although, as the more youthful and brawny one among us, I think I can take you in a fight if I need to," he winked.

"I know a losing battle when I see one," William chuckled, raising his hands in mock defeat. "She's all yours."

Luke immediately stepped toward Lorelai, snaking one arm around her waist and moving the other to grasp her hand in his.

"You charming all the Danes men, Gilmore?" he teased so only she could hear, drawing her petite frame against his muscular chest. "You really need to work on being less adorable."

"Comes with the territory," she shrugged, a bubble of laughter escaping her lips.

"Don't I know it. Hey Pops, you gonna play us another track so I can show Lorelai how a real man dances?" Luke called playfully.

"All talk and no game," William muttered, a mischievous smile gracing his lips as he switched the record and lowered the needle once again. He watched his son lead Lorelai around the room, the trio laughing when Luke lost his balance momentarily and wobbled backwards before correcting his footing at the last second and lowering Lorelai in a dip.

"Smooth recovery," William chuckled, basking in seeing his son in such high spirits.

They continued to dance exuberantly for a few more songs, William heckling Luke affectionately from the couch and clapping his hands encouragingly when they dipped and twirled.

Finally, breathless with laughter and exertion, the duo collapsed against the couch cushions.

"Well you're no Fred to my Ginger, Danes but I suppose you'll do," Lorelai teased, squeezing his hand affectionately as she worked to regain her breath. She was taken aback when he leaned forward to peck a fleeting kiss against her lips in front of his father. The un-Luke-like behavior was an unexpected but welcome surprise.

"You kids ready for some dessert?" William asked, making a move to rise from the couch.

"Yes!" Lorelai exclaimed excitedly, her eyes bright as she sat upright. They collected the bowls and spoons, the trio relocating to the porch to devour their dessert, or in Luke's case, a cup of tea.

It was with reluctance some 40 minutes later that Luke checked his watch and grumbled, "I guess I should be getting you home. Your parents are going to be wondering where you are."

Lorelai pouted, begrudgingly rising from her chair and nodding as Luke moved to collect the car keys. She'd told her parents she was having dinner at a friend's house and they would be expecting her home soon.

"Thanks for having me over Mr Da…ah…William," Lorelai corrected sheepishly, leaning forward to embrace him. "I had a fun night."

"Likewise. Thanks for the dance and for keeping this one on his toes," he grunted, gesturing his head in Luke's direction with a half-smile. "You kids drive safe."

They set off for Hartford, an atypical silence falling heavily between them. Both Luke and Lorelai were dreading saying farewell, each too anxious to voice the terrifying thought that this could be the last of their time together if William decided to exercise the parent code.

When they finally pulled to a stop in Lorelai's estate, the dread finally became too overwhelming to ignore. A single sob escaped Lorelai's lips as she whispered, "I don't want to say goodbye."

Feeling a lump manifest in his throat, Luke unclipped his seatbelt and leaned across the cabin to take her hands in his, his forehead coming to rest against hers.

"Then don't say it," he murmured, squeezing her hand tightly. "Say goodnight, not goodbye."

Lorelai closed her eyes, leaning into him and moving her cheek to brush against the light stubble on his face. She lowered her head to the crook of his shoulder, breathing in his masculine scent and relishing the warmth emanating from his body.

"Do you think he'll tell my parents?" she asked quietly.

"I don't know."

Luke realized the words were hollow and ineffectual, but he wasn't sure what else to say. Wrapping his arms tightly around Lorelai's waist, he held her close, absentmindedly stroking his fingers through her soft hair.

"Whatever happens, this isn't over Lorelai. We'll work something out."

"You don't know them like I do Luke," she breathed shakily. "My mother won't drop this. If she finds out about us she'll do everything in her power to make sure I never see you again."

"Let her try," he mumbled defiantly, pressing a kiss to her hair.

After a few minutes, Luke begrudgingly uttered, "C'mon, they're going to send out a search party for you any minute now. Time to go inside angel. Deep breath."

He felt his heart constrict at the despondency he saw in the depths of her blue eyes as she pulled away. He quickly opened his door and made his way around to the passenger side door, offering her a reassuring smile as he practically lifted Lorelai's small frame from the vehicle.

"I only just found you Lorelai; there's no way I'm letting you go without a fight," he whispered, holding her to him in a vice grip.

Steeling herself, Lorelai offered him a watery smile as she pulled away, arching her shoulders back and nodding resolutely. "Call me tomorrow after your shift's done at the store," she urged him hurriedly, conscious of the need to get inside. "Mom has her Friends of the Gallery meeting between 4.30 and 6.30 and Dad will be at work until at least 7.15. Call me and let me know what your dad has decided. I'll wait in the study and pick up before the maids answer. You know the number, right?"

"Yeah," he affirmed.

"Okay, well um…"

"Goodnight, not goodbye, remember?" he whispered, cupping her cheek with his palm and locking his gaze on hers.

"Goodnight, not goodbye," she returned, kissing his lips softly before turning to scurry down the street. "Talk to you tomorrow."

-o-

Luke returned home to find William seated in the same chair he'd occupied when they'd left for Hartford, his head buried in his hands and an untouched cup of peppermint tea resting at his feet. He didn't acknowledge his son's presence when Luke mounted the porch steps and sunk down into one of the weathered wooden seats, instead continuing to sway back and forth in the ancient rocking chair as he processed his thoughts.

In the stillness of the night, the crickets chirping their evening song, Luke felt the weight of the world bearing down on him. It was one thing to cope with his father's illness; to do what he could to keep both his family and the hardware store afloat; to keep all of the balls in the air while still scraping through at school, but he feared losing Lorelai would surely be the straw that broke the camel's back. She was the one person that made him dare to hope that things could be better; the one person that brightened the dark days and lifted the pervasive weight from his chest. The loss would be too much to bear.

It was another 20 minutes before William finally broke the silence, his head still resting firmly in his hands as he uttered, "She's spectacular."

Despite realizing William couldn't see the movement, Luke simply nodded his head, awaiting the heavy discussion that he knew was imminent.

"Of course, you know that already," William added with a wry chuckle, exhaling softly as he straightened his shoulders and leaned backwards in his chair, his hands coming to rest in his lap. The hard set of his lips told Luke that despite his laughter, William found the situation far from amusing.

Luke simply waited patiently for him to continue.

"See, I find myself in quite a bind here. On the one hand, there's this unspoken rule that as a parent, you do what's best for your kid. The handbook's pretty clear-cut on that one. And because we're all terrified we're making bad decisions and screwing our kids' lives up, we have this rule that we do right by each other, parent to parent. If we know someone's kid is getting into trouble, or winding up in a dangerous situation or even just not following their parents' rules — however harsh or outdated we might think they are — we mention it. Because if, god forbid, it's our own kid that's in trouble one day, we hope like hell that another parent would do us the courtesy of letting us know."

William sighed loudly, wearily running a hand through his few remaining tufts of grey hair.

"So what do I do Luke? What's the right choice to make when doing what I think is best for my kid means keeping another parent in the dark? _Lying_ to them."

Once again, Luke remained silent, hating that he had forced his father into this predicament. The minutes ticked by, the only distinguishable sound the soft creak of the rocking chair as it moved back and forth. Finally, William spoke again, his words uttered so quietly they were almost inaudible.

"You're old enough to make your own decisions now; I know that. God knows you're more mature than most people twice your age. But Lorelai, she's only 15. That's Liz's age, and if it was Liz taking buses late at night to go and spend the night with a teenage boy I'd never met, I'd want to know. I'd want another parent to tell me if they knew."

Luke felt his stomach plummet, recognizing the validity of his father's words despite the anguish they caused him.

"It's times like this I wish your mother was here," William murmured softly, casting his eyes up to the sky.

"What would she have done in this situation?" Luke asked quietly.

"Probably said to hell with the rule book," William snorted.

After a short pause, he added, "You know, from the moment we brought you home from the hospital, she always used to say 'Look at his eyes Will; he's got the wisest eyes. Our Luke's an old soul. He knows all the secrets of the universe.' She was right, of course. She always was."

"Hardly," Luke grunted, feeling anything but wise for laying this dilemma on his father.

"No, it's true. You've always been wise beyond your years. Even as a kid you had this kind of…I don't know…inbuilt moral compass. You always did what was right. I think that's why it shocked me so much when I realized you'd been hiding Lorelai from me. Lizzy has told me her fair share of fibs over the years, so I can smell a cock-and-bull story a mile off with her. But you? You were always pretty upfront with Maggie and I and you always chose the right path without much input from us. You've really thrown me this time kid."

"I'm sorry," Luke apologized softly, his eyes brimming with sincerity. "I hated keeping it from you. I just didn't want to put you in the crappy situation you're in now."

"I know," William sighed. "And somehow, I find myself asking: if the kid who always seems to know what's right thought it was best to keep this under wraps, do I honestly believe that I know better? Your gut's hardly ever been wrong before."

After a few moments, he added, "Are they really that bad?"

"Lorelai's parents? Yeah, I think so," Luke responded truthfully. "From what I can tell, it's like they view her as some kind of trophy or show pony to parade around in front of their rich friends. She's this amazing, intelligent person and they don't see it. They're so hell-bent on creating this image of the perfect daughter that they don't realize they've already hit the jackpot. It shouldn't matter whether she attends debutante balls or visits the country club or can tell the difference between a damn cocktail fork and a fruit fork, but somehow that's all they seem to care about."

Drawing a deep breath, he added, "I know she comes across as being really confident, but underneath it all she's drowning in self-doubt, and that's all because of them. I think it's only just occurred to her now that we're together that she might actually be worth something, and that she doesn't need to change who she is to be deserving of affection."

William absorbed his son's words carefully, his jaw clenched tightly as Luke spoke. His mind warred as he mulled over the situation, desperately trying to determine a suitable course of action.

"You know, this decision would be a lot easier if I thought this was just a fling," William explained tiredly. "I thought if I met Lorelai and saw that the relationship was destined to be short lived, it would be easy to justify telling her parents, and you'd move on quickly enough. But it's not just a fleeting high school thing, is it? It's different with her. _You're_ different with her."

His words were intended as a statement rather than a question, so Luke simply cleared his throat and shifted slightly in his seat, waiting to hear whether his father would go on. The softly spoken words that followed stole the breath from his chest.

"She's your Maggie."

The rational side of Luke wanted to argue that it was too soon for that declaration; that it was impossible to foresee that kind of bond in less than two months of being together; that they were too young to even think about that level of commitment. And yet, despite all the logical arguments his brain put forward, he nonetheless felt three simple words slip from his mouth, honest and heartfelt.

"Yeah, she is."

Luke couldn't tell whether his father was pleased or disappointed by the statement. He gave no indication he had even heard the words, instead staring ahead unblinkingly.

"Dad?"

William simply sighed, running a hand over his face wearily.

"Oh Lucas," he murmured, his eyes locking on his son's. "I don't know what to tell you. That bond is once-in-a-lifetime kind of stuff. Most people aren't even lucky enough to find it at all. I'd always hoped that you — and Lizzy too — would find the kind of relationship that your mom and I shared. I just never thought you'd stumble across the right person so early. It's bound to make things a little more difficult for you while Lorelai is under her parents' rule."

"Are you going to tell them?"

"Aw geez Luke. How am I supposed to do that after what you've just told me? You're my only son; I can't just rip the rug out from under you. Besides," he added with a grunt, "If this is anything like the connection Maggie and I had, there's no way you'd give up even if the Gilmores found out and moved half a world away."

Luke simply nodded, recognizing the truth to his father's statement.

"I'm sure they'll figure it out sooner or later, and I have no doubt it will be ugly. That worries me for your sake and for Lorelai's, and it sure as hell makes me question whether I've gone mad for even entertaining the idea of keeping this from them. But if they are the way you say they are, then I'd prefer to give you a fighting chance to make this work without their interference. Get to know your girl and strengthen your bond Luke. The longer you're together, the stronger your relationship will be and you'll be better equipped to deal with the fallout when it happens."

Before Luke had a chance to respond, William added gruffly, "If you're going to do this, we're going to need to set some ground rules though. You hear me?"

"Whatever it takes."

"Number one: No more late night bus rides for Lorelai. It's not safe. You'll arrange to pick her up and drop her home in the truck anytime she stays over. She's only allowed to take the bus if it's during daylight hours like after school."

"Okay," Luke assented readily, having long been trying to convince Lorelai of this himself. He knew she would agree if it meant they could stay together.

"Number two: Lorelai can stay over a maximum of three nights each week. The late night and early morning commutes are taking their toll and I don't want you kids going into school tired every day. If she can arrange to get away from Hartford some afternoons after school, then I don't mind if they're in addition to the nights she stays over, but she only sleeps here three nights a week or less and the visits don't interfere with your school work. You got that?"

"Yes."

Luke was disappointed that he wouldn't have her by his side as often as he currently did, but he didn't feel he had grounds to protest.

"Number three: I'd like to think it goes without saying but you'll be responsible and…ah…safe if you're… er… _together_." William's cheeks flushed as he ground out the words awkwardly, mirroring his son's uncomfortable expression. "Have ah…are you two…" he trailed off awkwardly.

"No," Luke answered quickly, his crimson blush unmistakable. "But um…you know…when we…I mean, I've got it covered."

"Good, that's good. Okay…er... number four: You level with me at all times. No more lies or convenient omission of facts, okay? If this is going to work I need to know I can trust you completely."

"You've got my word."

"Lastly, if the situation changes in any way or these guidelines aren't working, I can change the rules at any time if I think it's in yours and Lorelai's best interests. Are we clear?"

"Yes, got it."

"Well alright then."

Luke couldn't help the broad grin from immediately gracing his lips and he desperately wished he didn't have to wait until the following day to share the news with Lorelai. She would undoubtedly have a restless night as she anxiously awaited the update.

"Thanks Dad, you have no idea what this means to me. To us," he corrected, relief and elation evident in his eyes.

"Don't mention it," William replied in his usual gruff tone, brandishing one hand in the air dismissively. "Truth be told, I'm scared shitless that you're going to get caught in the crossfire when her parents eventually find out, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it I guess."

"Yeah, we'll work it out," Luke murmured. Not even the fear of Lorelai's parents finding out about their relationship could dampen his spirits at this point in time.

Rising from his chair, William slowly stretched out his aching joints before turning to walk inside. He stopped to clap his son on the shoulder as he passed, eliciting a half smile as he said, "I'm happy for you Luke. It's good to see you happy."

-o-


End file.
